


Soulmates

by BastardSirius



Series: Soulmates [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eating Disorders, F/M, Gen, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Teen Angst, Underage (Kissing and handjob - 15yo), Underage Drinking, slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:14:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 133,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardSirius/pseuds/BastardSirius
Summary: This is the story of Remus Lupin and his friends, focusing on important parts of Remus' life in particular, starting from when he was bitten.The word "Soulmates" here refers to more than just romantic soulmates.





	1. What Doesn't Kill You

**Author's Note:**

> I had deleted this work, but now that I have a better plan on how to continue it, I am putting it up again. I have actually written out everything that will happen in the story up to their fifth year, so hopefully updates will come swiftly. Planning on two chapters per year; winter term & summer term while they are in school, and half-years after.
> 
> Comments & Kudos always welcome and very, very loved.

**_What doesn’t kill you_ **

**_Makes you wish you were dead_ **

**_Got a hole in my soul_ **

**_Growing deeper and deeper_ **

Drown - Seafret

 

They said he wouldn’t survive his first transformation. If he did, he would surely die before he reached puberty. There were very few examples of this young werewolves making it into adulthood.

But Remus Lupin did survive. Every month, his mother would tell him that he was a brave boy as she tended to her wounds the muggle way after his father had tried his best with what little healing magic he knew. It took a while for Remus and Hope to understand why the wizarding hospital was refusing Remus treatment. Muggle one was not an option as they would immediately start an investigation and probably arrest both parents if they brought their son beaten up every month with most of his bones broken.

For days after the transformation, five-year-old Remus’ fragile body would be in too bad a shape to move around and even the pressure of the shower water would hurt him, so his mother gave him sponge baths to clean and soothe him. She would cry silently as she repeated kind words to him. He had cried too, at first. A lot. But by the third full moon he had found that he had no sobs left in him. Any tears he had were silent.

“You’re such a brave little boy. A fighter. My strong Remus.”

Remus didn’t want to be strong, and he didn’t feel brave. He looked down at his bloody leg as her mother cleaned his stitches. He wasn’t brave; he shook in fear the second his mother closed the cellar door every month. He didn’t feel like a fighter; fighters chose to go into battle in all the books his parents had read him. Noble knights or smart Aurors fighting for The Good. He just sat in a cold room and waited for the inevitable.

His twelfth transformation was unusually painful. He didn’t know why, and from the sounds of it neither did his parents. He couldn’t open his eyes in the morning, and he felt pain that he didn’t know was possible. His throat burned as if he had drank too-hot chocolate milk and burnt himself all the way to his stomach. His skin was on fire and even though he knew his body was still, he felt like his bones were actively breaking.

He wondered why he was feeling this much pain. He had broken his arm when he was four and had felt no pain, and his father had explained to him that the body protects itself: When it is in too much pain, you don’t feel it any more. So why was he feeling _this_?

While he drifted in and out of consciousness, he heard his mother sobbing and shouting at his father to save him. When he managed to open his eyes for a few seconds, he was already in his own bed. His mother was holding his right arm with both her hands. She saw him open and close his eyes and she started kissing his face, whispering in a voice hoarse from crying.

“It’s going to be ok love, it’s going to be ok my little fighter,” she said, “You will heal and wake up, I promise. I promise.”

Remus let sleep take over him, and as he did, he wondered why his mother was promising him such a thing. He didn’t want to wake up and do this again in a few weeks.

He had been a happy, energetic boy, before he was bitten. He was never a rascal but he was rowdy enough to occasionally be brought back home with a neighbor pulling his ear complaining about what he had done to their garden. After he was bitten he continued being that way for a short time. First, it was the transformations that slowed him; the days before and after became too demanding on his body to do much else other than deal with the change. Then, month by month, letter by letter of different forms his father had to prepare and wards he had to put up, he lost the naive innocence that had made him unafraid of the world. He no longer wanted to wander into unknown gardens or pet dogs he had never met before. Not for fear of monsters but for the fear that he _was_ the monster others needed protection from.

His sense of wonder wasn’t fully gone, but it was contained to books now. He quickly learned to read and devoured more books than either of his parents thought possible at his age. When he read his first real book without pictures at age seven - almost 300 pages - his mother secretly quizzed him. She asked him about some scenes or concepts under the guise of casual conversation, expecting him to not know but was pleasantly surprised when he did. He had really read the book.

Hope and Lyall were proud of him in a completely different way when he became a bookworm. They beamed when he finished yet another book and asked if they could go to the library, please. They were pleased that their son had found a safe hobby that they could easily afford thanks to the library in town. Merlin knew he needed some happiness in his life, now that he was not allowed to have friends.

What they didn’t see was that the reason Remus read as much as he did was not just because he enjoyed it. He did - avid readers always do - but he also read to try to fill the void that his child mind could not understand. He would feel sad or empty and throw himself into a new novel or series, shutting down all thought except what would happen to the detective in the next chapter. The bigger the void grew, the thicker the books got. By age ten, he was reading books that Lyall couldn’t even hold with one hand.

When Remus got his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, it took long conversations (and arguments) between his parents, as well as two visits from Dumbledore before they accepted and went to Diagon Alley to get his things.

Remus had never seen so many people before and was overwhelmed. His father taught him several techniques he had read about to try and deal with the stress of being in a crowd. They spent hours not shopping but trying to get the young werewolf to be in a crowd without hyperventilating. It was almost closing time for the shops by the time they managed to get all his things for school.

In the months before he was to get on the train, his father talked to him at length about how Hogwarts was, what to expect, and how to behave. His mother listened in as well, marveling at this magical world she had never heard of in such detail, and provided tea and snacks during their long chats.

Lyall talked of endless feasts, wise professors, cheeky ghosts, hidden passages and many more things, but all conversations always circled around one thing.

Have fun, but not too much. Be friendly, but never make close friends. Be kind, but never get a girlfriend (he had no idea why his father was talking about girls to an eleven-year-old). Make sure to shower every day, but only before or after everybody else in the dorm has used the bathroom. In short: Blend in and hide your secret as well as you can because the second you are discovered, the magic is over.

“The thing is, Remus,” Lyall told him one August night, long after Hope had gone to sleep, “I was planning on teaching you myself. You obviously have talent, I could see that even when you were younger. But…” He searched for words and looked away from his son. “At Hogwarts, if you get expelled, they could take your wand, and make it so that you are not allowed to have one. That would not have been a danger if you had been home-schooled.” He paused and looked at his son again who was looking back with the calm eyes of an adult he shouldn’t have had to be. “I want you to lead as good a life as you can.”


	2. Don't Make Friends

**_And I can’t take_ **

**_One more moment of this silence_ **

**_The loneliness is killing me_ **

**_And the weight of the world_ **

**_Is getting harder to hold up_ **

Drown - Seafret

 

Remus took his father’s advice to heart. But the three boys in his dormitory began to grow on him and he found it harder and harder not to participate in their conversations. He was trying not to be friends with them, but it was proving more difficult than he would have thought. Sometimes he would get angry at his father for sending him to Hogwarts at all. It was too much pressure, too much temptation. Seconds after the thoughts formed, guilt would fill his heart and he would apologize to the imaginary father he had been shouting at in his mind.

“I just want him to turn green, is that too much to ask for?” one of them whined to the other, looking at a Slytherin boy across from them in Charms.

“We already tried, it just won’t work,” the darker-haired boy frowned back, “I think we need a potion.”

“How would we make him drink it?” the blond boy gasped.

Remus didn’t join the conversation, but wrote on the side of his parchment. ‘Colovaria needs focus; wands need to be steadily pointing at the target and visualization in the mind must be clear of the intended result. There is no need to say the colour out loud. Multiple people casting the same spell on the same person is not a good idea.’

After a bit more of chatter amongst the three, he was glad he had not tried to speak up when the Professor ‘joined’ the conversation.

“Something you would like to share with the class, Mr. Black?” Professor Flitwick asked, suddenly very close to the three boys.

“Er — not particularly, Professor,” he answered sheepishly.

“You sure? How about you, Mr. Potter or Mr. Pettigrew? You seemed in such deep conversation I was worried my lecture was getting in the way of your deep discussion which I am sure was about Charms.”

“It _was_ , actually,” Peter said, then slapped a hand over his mouth and his hole face was red in an impressively short amount of time.

“Oh? Do share.” the Professor did not sound interested at all. He seemed more bored than annoyed at this point.

“They were confused about the Colovaria spell,” Remus replied in a small voice, before the others could. Professor Flitwick turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“We haven’t talked about that yet,” he said.

“True,” Remus said, nodding, “But they have been doing some reading ahead of time. They’re past chapter nine now I believe, and didn’t understand how little wand motion was required and the words didn’t change even though it is such a complex charm.” He hadn’t looked at the teacher once as he said all of it. He kept his eyes on his parchment but could see the boys and Professor in his peripheral vision. James Potter was grinning as if he had won a prize, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black both had their eyebrows raised in surprise. The Professor was smiling kindly.

“Very interesting indeed, isn’t it?” he told Remus. He turned to the other three. “Five points for each of you from Gryffindor, for a total of fifteen. I do not care about the subject matter, do not disrupt my class!”

After class, the boys started talking to him before he had a chance to pack away his things. They were all talking at the same time, and he had to take deep breaths and count as his father had thought him to calm himself down.

“That was brilliant! We owe you!”

“How did you make him believe you? It’s only been a month since we started school, how could we have read that far into the book?”

“So you’ll help us get it right, right?”

“You eavesdrop. I like it.”

Remus hadn’t moved an inch since they had surrounded him. The quill he had been holding with his thumb on top of his books was slowly sliding away, about to fall but his hands were frozen as was the rest of his body. It took a surprising amount of time for the other boys to notice this. Almost twenty seconds of badgering went on before the one with the glasses said:

“Oi, I think we broke him.”

The other two stopped talking.

“Lupin?” James’ voice was unsure.

“Did you curse him?” Peter asked Sirius, biting his lower lip and playing with his fingers nervously. 

“You always think it’s me!” Sirius whined.

“Well, was it?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything,” Sirius huffed and crossed his arms. “Everybody always blames _me_ ,” he muttered under his breath loudly enough for the other boys to hear.

“It _is_ usually you, Black,” James said with a big grin.

“Or _you_!”

“What can I say, nobody looks at this face,” James said, gesturing at his face and almost bumping into his glasses with his fingers as he did so, “And thinks ‘that boy is evil’.”  
Their focus on each other had somehow made Remus’ body relax slightly and words were coming out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “I am quite sure Professor McGonagall does.”

“He talks!” James whooped, smiling down at Remus. Now that the boys were all looking at him again, Remus felt his face heat up and started to walk away.

The three other boys spent the rest of the afternoon (and week) trying to get Remus to talk to them, but Remus did not give in. Every now and again they would make a joke funny enough to make him laugh but he held back, remembering his father’s words.

_Don’t make close friends. They will find out._

He felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Giving his secret away would ruin his family’s life too, he knew, not just his own. He had to resist the temptation.

But Remus Lupin was eleven and soon enough one of them - James Potter - managed to get a real conversation out of him after Transfiguration one day. It started innocently, discussing the boring homework but before he knew it Remus was laughing at James’ ideas of what to do with the tea cups at breakfast the next day.

 _Classmates talk,_ he told himself as he smiled at James, _Doesn’t mean we have to be close friends. Maybe it will be ok. They won’t find out._


	3. The Mystery of Remus Lupin's Disappearances

**_I know you feel that I keep you in the dark_ **

**_Give it time and your eyes will adjust_ **

Something In The Air - Seafret

 

Even at age eleven, Peter, James and Sirius were curious boys. Their curiosity coupled with the two dark haired boys’ cleverness meant that little escaped their notice. They managed to simultaneously have an aura of carelessness while knowing everything about people. Sirius might pretend not to know somebody’s name (“Mary, was it?” “Jenny, actually…”) but they would in fact be aware that their least favorite color was blue and pull a prank on them that dyed their hair a bright shade of blue.

Not all their knowledge went into nefarious plans. They also knew to hold back if a student was having a tough time (“Dorcas’ sister passed away, let’s make sure she leaves the classroom before we set the dungbombs off.”).

Yes, they were observant and clever. The fact that they did not conclude that Remus Lupin was a werewolf up until thirteen months into their acquaintance was more a testament to Remus’ ability to blend into the background and the other boys’ short attention spans. They didn’t bother to go out of their way to find out why one of the dorm mates was a loner for the first half a year of knowing him.

“We’re going down to the kitchens, want to tag along, Lupin?” James called out as Sirius and Peter walked towards the door.

“No, thank you,” said the shy boy quietly, “Have to finish this essay.”

“Alright,” James responded and caught up to the other two.

“We don’t have anything due on Monday,” Sirius said, stopping and turning back to face the light-brown haired boy. He couldn’t fathom why anybody would do homework on a Sunday otherwise.

“Transfiguration,” Remus said, voice barely above a whisper, “Due Wednesday.”

“Week days are for school. Weekends are for fun,” Sirius explained, as if Remus had never heard of the concept before.

“I won’t get another chance,” the boy replied, still not looking up from his book, his voice oddly stronger as the words rolled off his tongue with more confidence than before, “I may need to go home next week.”

“Go home?” Peter asked, “Weren’t you home two weeks ago?”

James elbowed Peter, giving him a look suggesting he not prod further. They knew that Remus’ mother was sick and it wasn’t tactful to ask a person why they were going to visit a sickly woman twice in a month. That probably meant that she was getting worse, potentially nearing the end of her life.

Remus’ cheeks colored and he gave Peter a quick glance. Despite his blushing, his voice was calm. “Yeah, but tad owled today mentioning mam was feeling under the weather.”

There was a beat of silence after which James motioned towards the door with his head for the two boys and turned around and told Remus they would see him soon. It took Sirius several more moments before he stopped looking at the quiet boy in confusion and walked out of the dormitory.

There was something off about that explanation, Sirius was sure of it. He started paying more attention to how Remus talked from that day on. Sure enough, Remus did go to visit his mother that Tuesday and missed Transfiguration on Wednesday, only arriving back to the dormitory in the evening. Sirius started taking mental notes about Remus Lupin and sometimes discussing them with James and Peter to seek their opinion.

“He’s always quiet as a mouse, barely makes a sound even when he speaks — but whenever he has to leave Hogwarts, he sounds as sure of himself as Binns talking about Goblin wars. It’s odd.”

They continued their observations for a while and noticed what Sirius had brought up. Indeed, the boy seemed to become more confident and words rolled off his tongue almost as easily as they did Sirius’ when it came to explaining away why he had to leave. While looking out for the signs, they also noticed how long it took between his visits.

“It’s been almost four weeks and he hasn’t gone to visit his mum again,” Peter said over a Chocolate Frog while they were playing chess in one of the empty classrooms they came to hang out at sometimes just because they could.

“Lupin?” James asked, “Yeah, I’ve noticed. It seemed like he was going every other week, before. Knight to C6.”

“Maybe she’s feeling better?” Peter offered, before ordering his pawn to G3.

“Maybe…”

While they conducted their ‘investigation’, they made excuses to hang out with Remus and forced him (sometimes physically) to tag along on their non-detention-inducing adventures. A day came when they didn’t even have to say his name before he followed them out of the dormitory for breakfast and in and out of classes. Remus was now spending less time alone, and more time with them. Except for his visits home and visits to the library to retrieve books, he spent his free time in their presence like a quiet, content ghost. A few times he had even joined their conversation, but his words were as scarce as unicorn blood.

By the end of their third month of idle observation (they easily got distracted by more exciting projects), it was almost the end of their first year and they had finally concluded that Remus only visited his mother once a month. “Nobody gets ill exactly once a month,” Sirius had said and the other boys had agreed. Remus was lying, they just weren’t sure why.

It was the second week of June, and they were writing their exams. They kept waiting for Remus to excuse himself and go home again, but the day did not come. They had two days of school left and their theory hadn’t been proven still.

“Maybe we were wrong and it’s not once a month? I guess we saw a pattern that wasn’t there,” Sirius said, frowning.

“It was 28th and 29th last time, I wrote it down. We will be back home by then, so we might just miss it,” Peter informed him, nodding to himself.

“Wait, I was just counting weeks. Hasn’t it been almost four weeks?” James asked.

“Not every month has four weeks,” Sirius said unhelpfully.

“I know that,” James said, rolling his eyes, “But when we said ‘once a month’ I just thought ‘every four weeks’.”

“It must be calendar days then,” Sirius mused.

“No,” Peter said shaking his head, “The two months before last were 29th and 30th.”  
“You wrote that down too?” Sirius asked, his voice as far from impressed as possible. “Swot.”

Peter blushed and shrugged. “We are researching. It helps to know facts.”

“That it does,” James agreed. “Maybe it’s and end-of-month thing.”

“Like rent?” Peter asked. The two dark-haired boys looked at him, blinking in confusion. “Nevermind,” Peter mumbled, shrugging, “If it’s end of month we will be home.”

“Then we won’t know,” Sirius said with a pout.

“There’s always next year!” James replied, grinning.

Eventually, they did find out the real pattern for Remus’ disappearances: the moon. Once they did, they understood him on a different level. Now that he didn’t have to actively hide, Remus was actually speaking out loud with them more often, opening up and joining their pranks rather than only observing, so they got to see more of him. He was still quiet and his expression almost never changed.

It took them a long time, even after finding out about his lycanthropy, to notice the minuscule signs of reaction that he showed. He would glance left for a split second to object to something he knew to be wrong or against the rules, pretending to be conflicted about it before agreeing. If he was not going to agree at all, his gaze would never falter and he would look the others in the eyes. He would push his fingers backwards with his other hand when he was excited about something. He would walk slower towards the Great Hall if he was really hungry. These and many other tiny quirks that made Remus Lupin became clear to the Marauders slowly as the time went on.


	4. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost always these chapters will have a song quote before them, but this one was too much of a mixture. I might edit to add some lyrics to the beginning later.

**Year Three - Winter Term**

 

As they all grew up, learned new spells and Remus started to relax into their friendship, the Marauders’ lives changed slowly but surely. Some things, though, some things never change. Their first Potions lesson of third year proved that.

“I will _not_ partner with Sni— Snape,” Sirius growled at Professor Slughorn.

The professor looked back in surprise. “He is the best in this class, whyever would you not want to make a potion with him?”

 _Don’t say he’s a slimy git, don’t say he’s a slimy git_ , Remus thought as if he could read Sirius’ mind. Sirius, to his credit, took a deep breath and replaced his angry expression with one of polite indifference.

“I merely thought he may not want to, Professor,” he said innocently, “That would be like giving points away to Gryffindor, as I’m sure our potion would deserve a few.”

Snape did not comment, but sighed.

“Nonsense, points are meant to encourage or discourage students as needed, but they won’t interfere with teaching,” Slughorn replied and moved away from their cauldron, the subject closed.

“This is sure to end well,” Peter said happily as James snickered from behind the two raven-haired boys.

“Have a good time with Snivellus, mate,” he told Sirius with a pat on the back, reaching over his cauldron, “And make sure you shower a few times before you get near me again.”

Peter laughed.

“Something amusing?” Slughorn asked, somehow next to them again. Before any of the boys could defend themselves, he continued talking. “Obviously you cannot sit together and be serious. Potter, Pettigrew, move. Pettigrew, you sit with Avery and Potter—” He looked around to see that only one cauldron had a single student in front of it. “With Evans.”

As they picked up their things to move, James shot Sirius another grin. “I’m proud of you for not making a ‘serious’ joke.”

“It’s not as funny when Remus isn’t here to groan in disgust,” Sirius shot back with a smile. His smile dropped when he looked to his side to see Snape there, reminding him of who he had to sit next to for the next hour and a half.

“Today,” Slughorn started lecturing now that everybody was settled, “We work on the Shrinking Solution. Easy to make, extremely difficult to master with precision.” He paused, looking at the class in search of fascinated faces. Then he continued, with as much drama as he could muster, “And _deadly_ , if not brewed properly.” He looked at James with a raised eyebrow. “Do try not to test it before I take a look,” he said meaningfully.

James huffed and leaned back on his chair, as if the mere possibility was ridiculous. Nevermind the fact that he already had two prank plans in his head that put the potion into use.

Lily rolled her eyes at the childish boy next to her. “Let’s get started, Potter.”

“Oh, right,” he said and stood straight up, as if he had forgotten that she was there.

“You grab the daisy roots, I will grab the Shrivelfig, then we go from there.” She was up and walking to the cabinets before her sentence was over.

“You didn’t even look at the recipe…” he said after her quietly.

Halfway through the class, Snape got up to leave while Sirius was stirring their cauldron.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To get more ingredients. We decided you do the stirring and I do the thinking, remember?”

Sirius would have started a fight but he couldn’t afford a detention today, he wanted to visit Remus at the hospital wing. He let Snape walk away with a satisfied smirk that he wished he could punch off. He didn’t pay any more attention to him until he saw him wave his wand to send something pink and orange from the cabinet not towards their own desk but towards somebody else’s. James’.

Before he could say anything, James’ hand was on whatever Snape had sent, and he was shaking it. He threw it into the cauldron just as Sirius got up to stop him. Now next to him, Snape closed his eyes in anticipation.

BANG!

Lily and James were both covered in yellow and green juice, as well as several pieces of what looked like rat entrails hanging off of their robes and faces. James’ hair was even messier than usual and Lily’s looked windswept. They were staring at the cauldron in shock and confusion.

Slughorn quickly made his way towards the two students and started muttering a few spells to get rid of the mess, sending the two on their way to the hospital wing to make sure they were not injured or poisoned.

They walked quietly to the hospital wing until James blurted out “I don’t know what I did.”

“I didn’t say you had done anything, Potter,” Lily said, turning to give him a curious glance.

“Well, it couldn’t have been your fault, you’re bloody brilliant at Potions.”

Lily hesitated for a moment but after an internal discussion, decided to speak. “You put bat spleen instead of rat,” she said, as if explaining a simple mistake to a child.

“No I didn’t,” he replied quickly.

“Potter…” she said, then sighed.

“No, I really didn’t!” he complained, “I may not be brilliant at Potions but I can tell rat spleen from bat spleen. Bats’ are much more pink and, well, veiny.”

“Potter, it’s ok,” she said almost-gently, “I don’t care that you made a mistake. If anything, it was one of the less lethal mistakes you could have made.”

“But I didn’t!”  
“You are allowed to be bad at things,” she said, all gentleness gone from her voice and she sped up her steps.

“Just because I’m _allowed_ doesn’t mean I will do it. I’m also allowed to be ugly but look at this pretty face!” James quipped, speeding up to match her speed with ease.

 

Back in the classroom, Sirius was fuming, arguing with Slughorn.

“Snape did it!”

“Mr. Black for the last time, go back to your seat. Your potion has turned out brilliantly, don’t make me take points off of you.”

“But I saw him!”

Slughorn sighed. “Severus, did you sabotage Potter and Evans’ potion?”

“Of course not, sir,” he drawled, “You know Evans is my friend. I was across the classroom at any rate, I don’t even know what went wrong.”

Suddenly Slughorn’s eyes lit up, the argument with Sirius forgotten. “Oh I noticed, Severus. Take a look at the cabinet, see if you can see it too.”

Snape pretended to look over the ingredients. “Looks like the bat spleen jar is rather empty, and it would certainly react poorly with wormwood and caterpillars.”

“Ten points to Slytherin!” Slughorn said, beaming.

~

“How is it possible for it to be so bloody hot?” Sirius whined, spread across the common room couch with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. A few girls looked vaguely interested from across the room, but otherwise most of the common room simply ignored him as they usually did. They knew he wasn’t actually expecting an answer, not from anybody except his three friends.

“We’re in a _castle_ in _Scotland_ in _autumn_. It should be illegal for it to be this hot,” Sirius continued and undid another button. A fourth year girl snorted as if holding back a laugh, then the room was silent again. Sirius opened his eyes to take a quick look around, disappointed that nobody was talking with him. He noticed James was reading the sports section of the Prophet.

“James,” he snapped, expecting to startle the boy.

Instead, James raised an eyebrow and replied with the same fake curtness, not taking his eyes off of the paper. “Sirius.”

“Help me!”

“I’m busy,” James replied, but was smiling.

“You’re reading the paper!”

“I’m _studying._ ”

“Yeah, studying Shacklebolt’s legs in Quidditch practice gear,” Peter snorted, peering over to look at what James was reading. “Need some privacy, Jamie?”

The dark-haired boy shrugged. “Been there, done that, Pete. But here, you can have that picture if you need. You have a lot to live up to after she saw _me_ , though.”

It was odd, being in the constant presence of three boys as they went through puberty. James had started getting hair in odd places but otherwise had not felt what Peter had obviously started feeling. Sirius and Peter would often joke about wanking and he would join light-heartedly, knowing full well he was expected to do it just like the were. At first he thought they had been lying in an effort to look more mature but was quickly robbed of that hope for both boys.

Sirius had started taking unreasonably long showers coming out of them looking unreasonably happy. And, a week into the term, James had actually walked in on Peter wanking on his bed when he went looking for him. Zero chance of misinterpretation there.

Remus was the only one who wasn’t participating in this awkwardness but James reckoned that boy had enough awkwardness in him already to last a lifetime, so perhaps it was just not noticeable. He also would hide it much better than any of the boys. He had never even seen Remus get out of a shower. If that boy was wanking, nobody would ever know.

“Anyway,” James continued, pushing thoughts of masturbation or the lack thereof away, “I really _am_ studying. Quidditch try-outs are soon and I want to quiz them.”

“Quiz them?”

James nodded enthusiastically. “If they truly care about Quidditch, they will know the latest news. Who did the Cannons recruit last, or why did the Arrows lose last league even though they were favored to win.”

“And that has something to do with their ability to play Quidditch for Gryffindor how?” Remus asked, finally interested enough in the conversation to close his book.

“You can’t just _fly around_ and help a team into victory, Remus,” James huffed, glaring at his friend over his paper, “You need to understand the sport - love it, live it, breathe it, hold it close at night and—”

“I think I get the picture,” Remus cut him off with a laugh.

“Study later. Pay attention to my suffering _now_ ,” Sirius interrupted their conversation with a pout, and was on his side now, looking at the three boys sitting on the floor.

“Cooling charm?” Peter suggested and was rewarded by the seemingly-instantaneous appearance of a fifth year witch’s wand on his neck. She was crouched over and glaring at him. He gulped as his eyes grew wide.

“Do _not_ cast any cooling spells here if you want to keep living,” she all but growled. Then she looked up at Sirius. “If I so much us feel a gentle _breeze_ , Black, you know what will happen.”

Sirius was trying to pout but the corners of his mouth were twitching. “Oh Adeen, detention with you would be a _pleasure_ , not punishment.”

“I mean it, Black,” she said as she got up, leaving a terrified Peter rubbing his neck, “I will _not_ have your shoddy spell-work get the whole house sick!”

“Come now, I was twelve and it was just a _few_ degrees under perfect. You ladies are too sensitive,” Sirius said charmingly, getting up and running his hands through his hair as he did so. He was shooting her one of his ‘witch-killer’ grins as he called them, but she only huffed in response.

“There were icicles hanging off the fireplace,” she said.

“And what a romantic sight that was,” Sirius said with a happy sigh, “If only you had been by my side during it so I could have cuddled you through it.”

This time Adeen laughed and snorted at the end of it. “Wrong parts, Black. Also way, _way_ too young.”

“Ouch, mate, I think that was a no,” James said, putting his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

“Woe is me,” Sirius said gravely, leaning into James, “I know not how I will get over this pain.”

“You could go to the lake,” Remus suggested, still sitting on the floor, one hand holding his book open.

“The lake! Yes! Let’s go!” Sirius said, jumping out of James’ grip to run towards the portrait door.

James followed him with a cry of “Brilliant!”

Remus and Peter chuckled as they got up and went towards the dormitory. “Let’s go grab our cozzies,” muttered Peter as they did so.

“It’s barely 68 degrees, if that!” exclaimed Lily Evans, who had been watching the exchange quietly. She was looking at Remus questioningly.

“That’s a bit warmer than when we went last year.” Remus chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. “Sirius loves swimming,” he added.

“So you really will swim? They didn’t even get their — you know — ”

“We’re wizards,” Peter said matter-of-factly and with that, the two boys were gone upstairs.

 

“You know she might come to look,” Remus told Peter with a grin.

“I didn’t say anything _incorrect_ ,” Peter replied, in a voice that suggested he had done something devious. “We _are_ wizards.”

“Yes, well, you know as well as I do that James and Sirius are not going to conjure up bathing suits.” This was true. They almost exclusively swam at night and a big reason was that the two boys preferred to do it naked. They were not ashamed of being seen, but they knew that the Professors would put a quick stop to it if they were seen dipping into the lake without any clothes on.

Remus sat down on his bed and put a pillow to rest his back on. He cast a quick spell to make it bigger and started reading his book again.

“You’re not coming?” Peter asked, coming out of the loo with his bathing suit on.

“Too bright out there, you know what the sun does to my freckles,” Remus said light-heartedly.

“You wear more clothing to go swimming than nuns do to church,” the blond responded with a snort, “You are in no danger of sun exposure.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus glanced at the other boy and said quietly. “It would bring too much attention to me, if I did. At night nobody questions it.” _Also,_ he added quietly in his head, _At night even if my clothing sticks to me, my scars are too difficult to see. They would be clear as day in the — well — day._

“I still think you can come, but I won’t push,” Peter said gently and put a robe over his body before running off to meet the other boys.

~

When the rest of the Marauders didn’t return after an hour, Remus got curious and decided to wander down to the lake himself - fully clothed, with no intention of swimming. If anybody asked, he would tell them he doesn’t feel like getting pneumonia.

What he did not expect to find was that there were four more boys and two girls swimming with his friends. In fact, they were playing something that looked like volleyball, passing a charmed ball between each other as they swam.

“Oi! Remus! There you are!” Sirius shouted. Remus waved at him, but instead of coming to join them like Sirius was indicating, he shook his head and sat down next to the lake.

“Come here you plonker!” James yelled out when he saw that his friend wasn’t joining them.

“I don’t need to see your plonker, Jamie, I’ll stay away until you are clothed!” Remus yelled back.

James, after a quick look at Sirius, swam out of the lake quickly and ran over to Remus - thankfully with a charmed suit on - and leaned over, dripping water all over him on purpose.

“C’mon, the water’s splendid.”

“I can’t,” Remus said calmly with a quick glance around. He pretended to scratch his cheek right where one of his bigger scars was. James caught on quickly and nodded.

“Fine!” he said in mock outrage as he turned back towards the lake, “Lupin refuses to have fun! We’ll have to enjoy ourselves without his sarcastic comments!”

Peter almost said something but James shook his head.

Now that the Marauders were off his back, Remus watched the lake with interest, along with around a dozen other students. He was idly watching Peter and a Hufflepuff boy argue about if something counted as a point (they had apparently made up a sport, as far as Remus could tell), when Frank Longbottom got out of the water, saying he was getting hungry. As he pulled himself out of the water, Remus found himself staring at the boy.

Frank had chosen to just use his boxers in lieu of a bathing suit and why that was not wise was apparent as he stood up next to the lake. The wet boxers left little to the imagination, even though they were dark. After a few seconds’ lingering on the boxers, Remus’ gaze went up to follow his trail of pubic hair - _When did that boy hit puberty, when he was_ ** _nine_** _?_ Remus thought - and up to his neck and broad shoulders. Frank moved his head to the side to stretch his neck and leant down to grab his wand to summon his clothes. As he waited for his clothes which were levitating towards him, he did not shiver or give any other signs of being cold. In fact, it looked almost like he was hot, the way he was rubbing water off of his forehead, showing the light tones of his arm—

 _Oh_ , Remus thought, as realization dawned on him and he hoped he was not blushing, _That's what Peter was talking about when he said the pictures in Witches Weekly gave him funny feelings sometimes, back in second year._

He had funny feelings indeed. Feelings that involved being extremely grateful for his second-hand robes’ bagginess.

~

James had not stopped talking about the Quidditch try-outs until they finally came around on the second Saturday of school. He had been eerily quiet all day. He had even chewed silently and walked with the rest of his friends without a sound, as if he were gliding.

“Mate, you’re creeping me out,” Sirius said finally when James did not reply to a passing by Slytherin fourth year taunting him by asking if James needed him to cast Incendio to help improve his haircut.

James made a “Mm?” sound as he looked up at his friend, mind obviously elsewhere.

“What is it with you today?”

“Try-outs in—” he started, then paused to check his watch, “An hour and forty two minutes.”

“And?”

“I need to make sure I am ready for any possibility. I cannot look unsure of myself in any way. Can’t set that precedent with the new ones.”

“You _do_ realize you are not the captain, right?” Remus asked solemnly, although he was smiling.

“But I will be in two years, when Lance graduates,” James replied matter-of-factly.

“You sure?” Remus teased.

“Of course he will!” Peter jumped in excitedly, “No competition!”

Remus smiled. He was right, but Peter’s enthusiasm still bothered Sirius sometimes, so Remus shot the dark-haired boy a quick glance to make sure this wasn’t one of those times. Thankfully, it wasn’t and Sirius was too distracted with James to care about the other two boys.

“You’re going to pop a vein if you stress any more,” Sirius said, point at James’ forehead. After a quick pause, he asked, “Would talking about it help?”

“YES,” James burst out as if he had been holding it the whole time which, thinking back, Remus now assumed that he had been, “But we have to go somewhere private where nobody else can hear.”

Due to the good weather and lack of homework this early in the term, everybody seemed to be outside their dormitories. No hallway was empty. They tried to make their way to one of the few tunnels they had found but kept running into Professors or other students. When even the entrance to the kitchens was blocked by a Professor (Vector), they decided going to the dormitory was the only choice they had left, regardless of Frank probably being in there.

“I wish we could see which rooms or hallways were empty,” James mumbled as they walked towards the common room. He turned to Remus. “You can always sense when somebody is close by. Can’t you do it from far away?”

Remus let out an involuntary chuckle, then shook his head. “I am not a radar.”

“A what?” James asked, frowning in confusion.

“It’s a muggle thing,” Peter explained and Remus was thankful that he wasn’t the only one with muggles in the family. “It looks at a certain area - how big depends on the radar itself - and detects objects within that area. For example they can see how many ships are sailing close by, if they have a radar looking towards the sea.” That wasn’t precise, Remus thought, but close enough for two wizard boys to understand.

“Muggles can detect people?” Sirius asked, eyebrows raised in fascination. “The things they do without magic is bloody unbelievable. How do they even do that?”

“Not people,” Remus clarified, “Not exactly anyway. It’s like a bat. From waves, they make out how far objects are. Wouldn’t really show something like ‘Filch is in the kitchens’.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “But _we_ could!” he gasped.

“We could what?” Remus asked.

“Make something like that. Why not? There are tracking charms and Family Clocks and such,” Peter explained, sounding more excited by the syllable.

“We would need a map,” James joined in, eyes wide with mischief and excitement, Quidditch momentarily forgotten.

“I’m already on it,” Sirius said, nodding aggressively and indeed already writing down notes on a parchment Remus hadn’t even seen him take out.

Once they were inside their dormitory, they saw that Frank was not there but didn’t turn the subject back to Quidditch. They kept taking notes regarding what they would need for the map and what kind of enchantments they could add to it for fun or necessity. The moving stairs would be tricky but _very_ useful to get right, for example.

Remus was eagerly explaining, hands in the air, how they could incorporate runes into the map to make the lines move when Frank Longbottom walked into the dormitory.

“It would make sense, if they move—”

“Hullo.”

Remus froze in the middle of his sentence, hands halfway in the air. His face tensed, skin pulled back ever so slightly towards his ears.

Frank walked over to the boys until he was in front of Remus, his side turned to him, facing Sirius who was sitting cross legged on a bed. Remus looked at the ground. He could _not_ look at Frank. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he had lost all ability to look at the boy. It didn’t quite make sense since all he _wanted_ was to look at him but his body completely refused.

Eventually, after some small-talk with the other boys, Frank went over to his bed for a nap. Remus could suddenly breathe again. Peter raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. Sirius and James, from what Remus could tell, had not noticed anything.

~

James, distracted by the tracking-map-planning, was lost in thought when he entered the pitch. The sight quickly brought him back to real life though. Lily Evans was in front of him, trying to fasten her borrowed Quidditch gear.

“Er,” was all he could say.

“Oh Potter, finally, you’re here,” said Elisa Wood, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, “Come, help Evans.”

Reluctantly, James moved towards Lily Evans. She was not exactly on great terms with him seeing as how he loathed her best friend. As expected, she was not thrilled to see him approach her, but did not complain when he moved towards the buckle.

“Here, let me,” he said and she moved up her arm to let him help.

Once she was secured in her gear, he took a step back. There was an awkward silence now that neither of them had anything to do until one of them got called by the captain. James, never one who could stand for silence for over a minute, was the first to talk.

“Trying out for Chaser then, eh? We need a substitute since Hooly graduated.”

“I wanted to try for Seeker,” she explained, sounding bored. Of him or the situation, James was not sure. “Seeing as how I’m small and yours just graduated. But they told me they have already found a Seeker.”

“Well McKinnon was a shoe-in. I think Lance was ready to write Pickles’ NEWTs for him to make sure he graduated so we could take McKinnon on,” James explained, talking excitedly at the red-head who only raised an eyebrow, seemingly uninterested. He stopped talking when he realized this might offend somebody who had been trying for the position. “I didn’t even know you wanted to play Quidditch,” he added sheepishly.

“I used to play football in school,” she said, “And I’ve been missing having something active in my life. Magic is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t exactly give you a work-out, does it?”

Remus watched from the grass with Sirius and Peter as James continued chatting with Lily in what appeared to be their longest (and most civilized) conversation yet. They were cut off when James’ name was called.

“Oi! Come, Potter, we’re trying out Chasers,” called out Lance, their captain.

“Aye aye!” he shouted back and was on his broom and in the air in one swift motion. Remus watched as Lily looked impressed. He couldn’t blame her. However gawky James had gotten as he got taller and wider, his grace on the pitch had not been affected in the least.

Once in the air, James worked with the current try-out on his passes and asked him to try to shoot a goal.

“B-but there is no Keeper,” the second year stuttered.

“There’s me,” James said, rolling his eyes, “The Keeper isn’t the only one keeping the ball out of those hoops, you know.”

“H-he’s not?” the boy asked, confused.

“I bet you five galleons you cannot make a shot in… Let’s say three tries. I won’t use any move that would not be used by a Chaser in the field.”

“POTTER! Stop playing with the newbies, we have try-outs to finish!” came Wood’s voice who suddenly appeared next to him.

“You’re no fun,” he said with fake complaint in his voice.

“You know you love me,” she giggled and turned to the second-year. “Now,” she told him, “He isn’t wrong in that Chasers defend the posts as well. They just defend it while also trying to organize passes well enough to advance to the other side. For now, just try a few shots in the hoops without any of us defending. Even with an empty pitch, aiming isn’t as easy at it looks.”

“You should be a Professor,” James said, hanging upside down on his broom now, bored.

“And you should be in perpetual detention, but here we are,” she replied, not bothering to look at him.

Two more students tried out before it came to Lily’s turn. She was very fast on the broom, much faster than James and Elisa would have guessed. She did seem to lack precision, but that could come with time.

“Thanks Evans, we’ll post the results tomorrow in the common room as usual,” Lance told her as she lowered down onto the field.

“She has some spunk to her, eh Potter?” Lance asked him as she walked away, “She was flying as if there was no chance of falling.”

“Yeah…” he mused. He had thought the same.

“Sometimes muggle-borns do that, though,” their captain continued, “Not quite aware of the consequences, you know. Doesn’t always mean they’ll make a good player.”

“Could be,” James agreed, nodding, “Like that Ravenclaw Seeker last year that got thrown out after a single game. They had such high hopes for him, but he was just flying around like a pixie, not even close to finding the Snitch.”

“She _did_ seem almost confused by the pitch,” Elisa added, now polishing her broom on the grass next to them.

“Maybe next year,” Lance said, “I’ve made my decision for this year anyway.”

“Finnigan?”

“Yeah, she was good out there,” he confirmed, grinning.

“You’re just a sucker for blonde hair,” Elisa snorted.

“It’s the accent, my dear. That damn Irish accent always gets me,” he said, then sighed happily. “I don’t let love get in the way of Quidditch decisions, though. Way too important. I picked her because she was the best today. You don’t think she was?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“She was,” Elisa admitted.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing everybody that had tried out that day. Who would make the team this year and who would be good to look out for for next year. Now that the try-outs were over, the Marauders were sitting with the team, listening in. Lance had chased them off the first few times they had done this, but by now had accepted that having Potter on his team meant his gang would be ever-present.

Thoughts of Lily were gone from James’ mind until she came out of the locker room wearing what looked like summer Quidditch training gear and were in the Chudley Cannons’ colors, but the logo wasn’t right, and James couldn’t recognize the name on the jersey.

Noticing him staring, Remus followed James’ gaze and smiled. “Like what you see, Potter?” he teased.

James shook his head like a dog and turned to Remus with a small smile. “Just wondering what team that is. Don’t know that logo. Looks almost like a…”

“Wolf, yeah,” Remus confirmed, “It is. They’re the Wolves. Or rather, Wolverhampton Wanderers. It’s a muggle team. Football.”

“Didn’t know you followed football, Remus,” Sirius said, then leaned in close enough to Remus’ ear that the werewolf could feel his breath, making him tense up. “Or do you just know it because you know everything about wolves?” he whispered so that only Remus could hear.

Remus shrugged away and shook his head, looking at the sky with a ‘Merlin help me’ expression on his face. Then he tilted his head back down to turn to his friends. “I don’t follow football per se, but mam’s into it. Around it long enough and you remember a few things.”

Peter and Sirius turned away from the Gryffindor Quidditch team and started discussing football and how it was played while Remus watched James who was watching Lily with interest and some color on his cheeks. He almost smiled at the thought that finally he wasn’t the only one of the Marauders with a crush. Sure, Sirius and Peter were quickly turning into randy teenagers but they liked anything with two legs and a smile, it seemed like. Crushes were different. More personal.

Sure enough, at dinner that day, James kept stealing glances at the red-head across the table and at one point even turned to his friends to ask: “What do you think about Evans?”

“Snivelly’s girlfriend? What about her?” Sirius asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“I don’t think they are going out. Are they?” James asked, eyes wide.

“What do you care?” Peter asked, shrugging.

James looked across the table again. “I think she would make a good girlfriend,” he said slowly.

“Oh Merlin, don’t tell me you’re going to ask Evans out,” Sirius moaned.

“Why not?”

“She’s… I don’t know. _Professors_ **_like_** her and she _reads books in the common room_ and complains when we hex Snivvy.”

“I do all those things,” Remus said, dead-pan, with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s different,” Sirius replied, waving his hand dismissively, “You’re Remus.” He turned back to James. “She also tutors first years as if they’re _real people_.”

“I am actually starting to get offended here,” Remus interjected again.

“Sush Loony, this is about my love life,” James said, waving his hand just like Sirius had. Loony was Peeves’ nickname for Remus and its use usually assured his annoyed silence.

“ _Love_ life?” Peter snorted, “What love life? The one with your right hand?”

“No, you berk. I mean I could — You know — I could ask her out. On a date.”

“We’re barely thirteen!”

“Almost fourteen,” James corrected, “Some of us were not born in the summer.”

Peter continued to look disgusted regardless. “If you buy her roses I might need to stop being friends with you.”

Sirius snorted.

~

Third year was also the year the Marauders decided to pull their first truly elaborate prank. The map was not complete but they would not need to hide much for the preparation of this plan. It was quite simple, really. They would disable all the heating charms in the Great Hall one night so the next day everybody would be freezing at breakfast. Since the temperature was below freezing, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. They could already hear the cries from cold students in their ears as they planned it.

It took them weeks to figure out how exactly the Hall was being kept warm. There were no fireplaces so they knew it must be with charms, but they had to know exactly what kind or kinds. Remus and Peter went through Hogwarts: A History and other books dedicated to the castle while James and Sirius “innocently” asked questions to professors, vague enough to hopefully not catch their attention. James asked Flitwick how to warm their dormitory better. Sirius asked Binns if Hogwarts used to have more fireplaces when muggles owned it, if they ever did. Slowly they pieced together that a lot of the heat of the Hall came from the simple fact that there were many fires around the castle and the stone walls provided isolation from the outside elements. Of course, the heat was dependent on the rest of the castle being warm, the barriers on the castle walls being strong and most critically that the enchanted ceiling, well, stayed enchanted. They had thought that the ceiling held a mirror image of the outside sky but Hogwarts: The Builder’s Dream explained that in fact the ceiling _was_ transparent and only half-solid. It was in a constant state of flickering between being a solid ceiling and a mere open window. There were no real stones.

Once they knew how the Hall was protected, it took them another two weeks to figure out how to bypass that protection. In the end they decided that the most straight-forward way would be to put a temporary charm stopper. Kind of a half-way Finite. They couldn’t find direct instructions but tested out ‘Pausa Incantatem’ with the same wand motions as Finite and it appeared to work on their own spells.

What they had not expected to find in the morning was a Great Hall completely covered in snow and ice. And it was _still_ snowing inside. Professors were running around and rushing students away from the hall, telling them breakfast would be served at the houses shortly. It turned out that all four of them casting the spell had somehow _actually_ removed the charm of the ceiling or at least haltered it much longer than they had planned for.

For the next week, the whole _castle_ was freezing. Nobody had caught them in the act but anybody who knew the Marauders was blaming them. A shivering Marlene McKinnon had actually hit James on the back of his head one afternoon saying if she weren’t so sick, she would beat him up properly.

 

“We’re all going to die,” whispered Remus. He couldn’t muster enough energy to raise his voice any more than that. He was buried under his blankets and even with a heat charm on them they were not warm enough.

“I vote we kill Potter first,” Frank called out from his bed. He was similarly wrapped in blankets. The only people actually out of their bed were Sirius and James, playing Exploding Snap with thick winter coats over their shoulders.

“Why me?” James complained.

“I know you two did this,” Frank said, pointing at the two of them, then quickly retrieving his hand back under the blankets.

“Why not both of us then?”

“Obviously,” Sirius said before Frank could answer, “Because I am too handsome to kill. The world must not be deprived of my amazing genes.”

“You’re more inbred than a Puffskein,” James snorted. Remus wanted to make a similar snide comment, but he didn’t disagree with Sirius. He also couldn’t actually say _anything_ when Frank was listening.

“No denying that,” Sirius said cheerfully, then he uncovered a card and gave a tiny sigh of relief when nothing exploded. “Bred with the most desirable qualities,” he said, puffing his chest up, “Which are of course mostly about devastatingly good looks.”

“If only they had cared about brains as well,” James said gravely.

“I want to argue,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “But then I might have to say something that suggests my family is not full of twits.”

When Dumbledore and Flitwick finally had the castle properly warmed up again, one by one the students started to get better and classes started again. Due to most families not liking the idea of a longer school year or cancelled winter break, they tried to make up for the lost time with extra classes. Remus, having also been through a full moon in this period, was the last to get better. He was almost well enough to be out and about and spending his last day in bed rest as instructed by Madam Pomfrey when something happened that embarrassed him so thoroughly that even as an adult he never forgot the moment.

“Hey, want some soup?” Frank asked him, after drawing his curtains open. Remus covered the only part of his body that was exposed, his neck, so that all that was visible of the boy was his terrified face.

“Since you’re sick…” Frank explained, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why Remus was looking at him as if he were a vampire.

“I— I’m sick,” Remus all but squeaked.

“Yeah…”

Remus desperately wanted to say something. Anything. _Come on Lupin. Say something. Say something._ “I’m sick,” he blurted out, and damn it all, he could feel his cheeks burning. Hopefully Frank would interpret it as him having a fever. “Th’nks.” _Apparently vowels are not on the menu today,_ he thought, scolding himself internally.

“Sure,” he said with a soft smile and handed Remus the big cup of soup he had been holding. Then, with a quick goodbye to the boys, he walked out of the dormitory, heading to the library to meet his study group.

The second the door was closed, James and Sirius were roaring with laughter, and Peter was obviously holding back as his mouth kept twitching. They had been watching the whole thing from James’ bed where they had been working quietly on the map until Frank had walked in.

“I’m sick,” Sirius said, mimicking Remus’ high voice with more than a little exaggeration.

James took it a step further and threw himself back first onto Sirius’ lap, hanging off of him as if he had fainted. “Take care of me, Frank,” he moaned, then gave a few fake coughs for effect.

“Die,” Remus said with a glare.

“Not if sweet Frank takes care of me,” James said playfully.

“Got a crush, Lupin?” Sirius said with a grin, pretending to feed James an invisible mug of soup.

“ _Die_ ,” Remus repeated, gritting his teeth.

~

The rest of the term went relatively uneventful, until the second to last Monday. Before that, there was not much of note. There had been several fights with Snape which had swiftly killed whatever little possibility of civil behavior between James and Lily Evans there was after the Quidditch try-outs. Snape had ended up in the hospital wing twice, and one or more of the Marauders three times. James complained that it was because Snape brewed his own healing potions, not because he was a better dueler.

On tenth of December, Remus was predictably absent from classes. Lily Evans and Thomas Cornwalf asked the gang where he was. Sirius talked about an elaborate story including eloping with a Veela but Peter simply shook his head and told them “His mom’s sick.” This seemed to satisfy Lily, but Cornwalf looked pensive, even though he nodded in fake-acceptance. The issue with Remus coming out of his shell was that now he was less invisible and it was an actual effort to keep his condition a secret, sometimes.

Especially when he decided to be gone for not a day or two as usual, but almost a week. They had not gone down to the hospital wing since they knew they were not supposed to know about Remus being there, but they were dying to know what was going on.

“I wish we were done with the map already!” Sirius complained, “Then we could sneak in when the coast is clear enough.”

“In good time.”

On the fourth day of Remus’ absence, Sirius decided enough was enough and broke his leg.

“Bloody hell, Sirius, you could have just _lied_ about breaking your leg,” Peter said, eyebrows raised, looking at Sirius’ leg which was now pointing almost the exact opposite way that it should be.

Sirius winced in pain. “Yeah that would have worked for all of two minutes and then she would have kicked us out.”

“You could have at least done this a bit closer to the hospital wing,” Peter mused, seemingly unaffected by Sirius’ comment.

Sirius looked around himself and then at his leg. “I will concede to that,” he said, frowning.

James and Peter levitated Sirius to the hospital wing. After Sirius was healed, he asked Pomfrey if he could lay down for a few minutes. She smiled fondly and told him that he could, but they needed to be out as soon as he felt up to it. As often as they ended up in her care for things that were entirely their own fault, she still could not bring herself to get angry at them.

As soon as she was out, Sirius turned to Peter and James. “Who will be the look-out, then?”

“Oh,” James said, “I hadn’t thought about it.” He turned to Peter. “Pete?”

Peter considered it for a moment. The truth was, he hated seeing his friend in pain, even after Remus came into the dormitory having healed enough to walk around on his own. As Remus limped, Peter always felt a twinge of pain himself. He wasn’t sure how bad the light-brown haired boy was now, but it could not be a good sign if he was still being kept here. “Fine,” he sighed in the end, “But not next time.”

James and Sirius, not giving him a chance to reconsider, quickly started tip-toeing around the wing to find Remus. They found him on the last bed, behind drawn curtains, in the corner. It made sense, they said as they approached the curtains; having a window must be nice and since he spent so much time here, Pomfrey must want him to have the best spot.

Their conversation and small smiles died the second they drew the curtains back and slid in.

Remus looked worse than any of them had ever imagined. When they had first suspected, they had spent a long time researching werewolves and seen many grotesque pictures but nothing they had seen on the books’ pages had prepared them for what was in front of them now. Their friend - who looked impossibly young now, restlessly sleeping on the white bed - was covered in gashes. His chest was moving unevenly, and his breaths were labored, making wheezing noises as he drew air in and out. For a second they wondered why he would not be bandaged up, but then they saw.

The wounds were very slowly healing, the subtle glittering of magic over them, but for every millimeter of healed skin, it seemed almost as much opened right back up, and the wounded skin that came back was redder than before.

“Fuck me,” James whispered, frozen in his spot.

Sirius walked towards the whimpering boy on the bed. He moved his hand as if to touch him, but moved it back straight away. He stared at his face and arms, the only parts that were exposed, as if he were under a spell, unable to look away. His eyes were wide but he did not look scared.

“Hey Madam!” they heard Peter as he greeted Madam Pomfrey with unnecessarily high volume. James pulled Sirius by his shoulder, guessing (rightly) that he would not have moved otherwise. They quickly made their way out and told Madam Pomfrey they were looking for the loo.

As soon as they were out of the hospital wing, Sirius said, simply: “We have to do something.”

James nodded.

“That bad?” Peter asked, eyebrows furrowed up in sad anticipation.

“That bad,” James confirmed.


	5. Affection, Attraction and Infatuation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SUCH a difficult chapter to write! I have made a deal with myself to write every term in there so couldn't skip this, but it is definitely the most boring time in my opinion. Necessary still, for the rest of the story.
> 
> I wanted to show the beginnings of a lot of things while they were still young (James/Lily, James&Snape, etc.). I also tried to put some non-romantic things in there because I feel like their friendship is what makes the tragedies and triumphs that much more powerful. That was difficult to do while not turning this into my other fic, Change.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Year Three - Spring/Summer Term**

 

**_Am I allowed to look at her like that_ **

**_Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at_ **

[…]

**_And I'll be okay_ **

**_Admiring from afar_ **

**_Cause even when she's next to me_ **

**_We could not be more far apart_ **

 

_She - Dodie Clark_

 

Remus didn’t believe in self-pity. He got depressed with alarming frequency for a teenager, but that is common for his kind. He did not pity himself for the scars trailing up and down his body. He did not pity himself for his monthly pain, the way everybody else did. Didn’t look at himself with those sad eyes that even the stoic Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help but have when she bandaged him for wounds that no potion can heal, not fast enough. It’s peculiar, how his lycanthropy would not kill him - not easily, the disease wants to be spread after all - and yet brought him to the brink almost monthly. Some months were worse than others, with no discernible reason behind it.

He used to get angry. At the world, at Greyback, at his parents, at himself, … But these days, he merely took it as it came, with barely a thought. His heartbeat still increased in fear the day of, and he still cried in pain the day after, but he thought of it as if he were an injured Quidditch player. A side-effect of what he does, for the player, and a side-effect of what he is, for Remus.

He did not pity himself for the unspoken truth of his life; that pain and loneliness would forever be a part of it. _How did the saying go; “everybody suffers alone”, or something like that?_

He enjoyed life too much to despise it, no matter how he may feel on the days when his depression heightened like an ocean wave building up to a tsunami. After all, all waves eventually crash and go back into the sea, leaving nothing but calm waters in the end.

At the end of last term, he had had a bad transformation. Not his worst - not even close - but it had been bad enough to spend a week with Pomfrey. His friends had snuck in to see him. They didn’t tell him - or rather, didn’t get a chance to - because as soon as he was allowed to leave the wing, he knew. They must have been watching the map like hawks because he had barely stepped out of the first hallway when they had met him, panting from having run over.

“Hey Remus!” Peter had said, trying to act normal.

 _Oh,_ he had thought instantly, _They’ve seen._ He could see it in their eyes.

They each took it differently, and yet the same. People who managed to see him as a child to care about (his parents, Dumbledore, the professors, Madam Pomfrey, the muggle doctors and nurses, and now his three friends) always reacted the same way. Pity.

Their pity manifested in different ways. For his parents it was a deep misery woven into their hearts that they could not shake off. Even when they laughed they were crying, somehow. For some, it was anger. Anger at the world for doing this to a “poor, innocent soul”. For others it was a shallow empathy for the pain, and more concern for its implications. People pitied the part that appeared the worst to them. The first thing Flitwick had mentioned was that it must be terrible not to be able to study, and how great that Dumbledore was allowing it to happen. Remus liked Flitwick.

With his three friends, after they had seen him at the wing, it went like this:

Peter was scared. He looked at Remus the way one does when they watch a player get hit by a Bludger. They see it coming, it’s seconds away from the player’s skull, their breath catches as they watch, and nothing can stop it from happening. That instinctive flinching people do when they see somebody else about to get hurt was written all over his body language whenever he was reminded of Remus’ lycanthropy. Deep down what it was, was pity. It always is.

James’ look was one of a challenged animal. He looked at Remus - or rather, past Remus, trying to see the wolf within him - with defiance in his eyes, as if daring him to try and hurt his friend again. If the wolf were a Slytherin - or anything tangible, separate from Remus’ own self - it would be hexed and potentially dead on the ground by now. Remus likened James’ reaction to his mother’s: A fighting one, rather than fleeing or avoidance.

It is Sirius that surprises Remus. Sirius is the most protective of them all and the one most prone to bursts of anger. The werewolf was expecting bloodied knuckles on his friend from punching walls in rage against the monster that had done this to his fellow Marauder. He wondered if, while he had been in the hospital wing, Sirius had hexed people left and right to relieve his anger, and was merely spent by now.

But as he looked at the raven-haired boy’s face, all he saw was disappointment. In himself, not Remus. He was looking at him the way his father did, sometimes. As if there had been something in his power to stop this that he had not done. It was a ludicrous thought but after particularly bad transformations (and sometimes even regular ones), Lyall always looked down at his son and apologized. Apologized as if he had had anything to do with this, as if he had cast the Cruciatus curse on him on purpose.

Why Sirius would think that, Remus couldn’t begin to guess. An adult feeling it made sense to him, especially his own father. But a fourteen-year-old who hadn’t even been friends with him for that long - why on earth would he feel responsible?

The answer was simpler than he would have thought: Sirius and James were arrogant. The world had to bend to their will, not the other way around. If there was something wrong, they had the power to fix it. All they had to do was want to.

And want they did.

~

Remus had always been a good student. Almost-top marks in exams, never below an E on an assignment and he always, always knew the answer to professors’ questions in class. That is why nobody, not even himself, noticed how exceptionally brilliant he was at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Their lectures up to third year had been almost exclusively limited to theory or minor spells, and his high marks were in line with his other subjects’. When they started actually practicing dueling and defense spells in February, it didn’t take long for everybody to take notice of him.

“Marvelous! Simply splendid, Mr. Lupin!” Professor Detna commented, with a quick clap of hands. Sirius and James, who had been on his left and right side respectively, turned to look at Remus. He had his own wand in his one hand, still pointing ahead, and another one in his other hand, obviously belonging to the Ravenclaw boy he had been practicing with.

“Class, stop practicing!” she called out and the cries of “Expelliarmus” died down. “Everybody, look at Mr. Lupin.”

Remus’ eyes widened and he could see James smirking from the corner of his eye. This was most likely the most surprised anybody had ever seen him. His ears and cheeks were on fire. 

 _No, nobody look at Mr. Lupin_ , he thought.

“Show them, Mr. Lupin,” Detna urged him on, “Cast it on somebody else. Perhaps your friend, Mr. Potter?”

“Er, I’m not sure what you want me to show, Professor,” Remus said quietly, “Everybody’s doing the same thing.” They had been. Both James and Sirius had successfully cast the spell several times with their assigned partners, Remus had seen it.

“No,” Detna said, shaking her head, “They have been getting rid of the wand, sure, but what help is a cast away wand? The other wizard or witch can quickly dive in for it, or one of their friends might. What you want, Mr. Lupin, is to do exactly as you have. Have your opponent’s wand in your grasp.”

“Oh,” Remus said, looking at the wands in his hands and furrowing his brows. He hadn’t thought about it, not really. Disarming to him meant taking the wand, but he hadn’t seen a problem with flinging it away like James’ and Sirius’ spells had done, either.

Then, before he had formed the thought consciously, he said “Expelliarmus!” and caught James’ wand effortlessly with his left hand.

“Hey! I wasn’t ready!” James complained, but he was grinning.

The rest of the month continued much the same, with Remus’ Defense spell-casting a constant topic of discussion every DADA class. After several classes of practice, Professor Detna started organizing small-scale mock-duels between students. She would always pick Remus to demonstrate with her, then two other students to try dueling with each other. The smile on her face every time Remus hit her with a spell made the other Marauders start coming up with stories about how she was in love with Remus and into kinky things in the bedroom.

“So, Remus, think you can spare a few hours to work on the map with us, or are you busy tonight in Pandy’s dungeon again?” James asked Remus, somehow managing to chew on a piece of chicken at the same time. Sirius and Peter laughed.

“Sure, let’s go, I’m done eating anyway,” Remus said, pointedly ignoring the comment and getting up. The rest of the boys followed, and James took another piece of chicken into his mouth before joining them.

“Pandy’s leash has gotten quite loose, I dare say,” Sirius said with fake concern, “You sure things are alright between you two? She’s not going to leave you? I feel like her way of breaking up might involve a little bit of death. I’d hate to lose you, even if it’s for a good cause.”

“A good cause?” Remus asked, eyebrow raised.

“Sex,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

Remus was dying to tell them to cut it off, that he was _not_ having sex with Professor Detna but he knew it would just make them more keen on continuing. He willed his face to not give away any embarrassment or irritation. “You know, one of these days you are going to slip and call her ‘Pandy’ in class, then we won’t ever finish the map due to the fact that you will be in detention for the foreseeable future.”

“I call Minnie, well, ‘ _Minnie’_ , all the time. Pandy doesn’t scare me,” Sirius said and shot Remus his trademark grin.

“Professor Detna gives the worst detentions,” Peter said with a frown, remembering his last with her that had included shoveling beast feces from different cages. At least Care of Magical Creatures was outside; Detna’s dark beasts were kept locked inside the castle for protection, much to Peter’s nose’s dismay.

“Are you gonna let Pete talk about your woman like that, Remus?” James challenged Remus.

“Will you cut it out already?” Remus snapped, unable to stop himself. It didn’t help that they haven’t stopped going on about this for the better part of two weeks now and it’s less than a week until the full moon.

“We’re just teasing, Remus,” Peter said kindly. His small smile was apologetic.

“We’re not used to anybody being better at us at _anything_ is all,” Sirius added.

“Yeah, and you would think, of all the subjects…” James’ voice trailed off as he reached into his bag, digging out the map as they walk into their dormitory. “So, I think we should really add more students. The Professors are fine but I feel it’s not enough.”

“What do you mean, ‘of all the subjects’?” Remus asked, unable to stop himself. He instinctively knew the answer but wanted to hear it.

“Er, nothing,” James mumbled but wouldn’t meet Remus’ eyes.

Sirius flopped onto James’ bed and cast a quick enlargement charm on it, patting the spot on his left for one of the other Marauders to fill.

Remus wanted to press the matter further, to hear James say ‘a werewolf being better at _defense_ against dark creatures - of which he is one’ but he thought better of it and sat next to Sirius, putting on a placid smile. James looked relieved when he stole a glance at the dirty-blond boy.

~

Remus had known that he was attracted to boys even before he started going through puberty. He couldn’t explain how or why, not precisely. Mostly because it was simply a part of him; he had never thought about it long enough to come up with reasons or explanations for it. There was nothing wrong with girls, he simply never saw himself with one, even as a grown-up. As he grew up he started to understand a bit more what that meant, exactly. Especially after he started _noticing_ boys. He found out that muggles frowned upon such couples, but the wizarding world did not. It was a shame since, as a werewolf, he was likely to end up living in a muggle community.

What Remus had not realized until he was fourteen was that he was attracted to one of his friends. Of course he had always known about his friends’ attractive features. Who doesn’t notice at least a thing or two about their friends? Peter’s blond hair was boyishly attractive in a way that Malfoys’ creepy platinum hair simply wasn’t. James’ charming grin matched perfectly with his body which was defined even at thirteen thanks to his rigorous Quidditch practices and good genetics. And Sirius Black, well…

 _Unfairly handsome,_ Remus had thought, staring at his friend, many times.

But he didn’t get nervous around Sirius, not the way he did with Frank. He could talk to Sirius and relax around him. It didn’t occur to Remus that one could be infatuated without having a crush. Not until his birthday, March 10th, 1974.

~

“It’s a tradition!” James said with glee, looking at his friends as they all sat in a circle on James’ charmed bed.

“First I’ve heard of it,” Sirius mumbled.

“Oh come now,” James said, “Surely you remember what we did for yours, just a few months ago?”

Sirius smiled at the memory. “Yes, well, that would have been a brilliant thing to do any day of the year,” he said, with a mischievous grin. They had gone swimming again, in the freezing November winter.

“Only _you_ , Sirius, could enjoy freezing your bollocks off,” James replied with a shake of his head.

“We had heating charms on, it wasn’t so bad!”

“Point is,” James pressed on, “We did it for _you_. On our birthdays, we must do something for the birthday boy, no questions asked. Tradition.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying this because your birthday’s coming up soon?” Remus asked suspiciously.

James clutched his chest as if he had been shot with an arrow. “Remus! My friend! Is that what you think of me?” he said in fake offense.

“Yes,” all three boys replied in unison, then chuckled a bit afterwards.

After their short laughter died down, James ruffled his hair and, leaning back, continued talking. “Honest, I just like the idea of having our own traditions.”

“Fair,” Sirius said, his grin dying down to a calm smile.

“Go on then, Remus,” Peter said, “Pick something.”

Remus was lost. What could he ask for? It was his birthday in a week and James had been pushing him to pick a “very special” activity for it.

“I don’t know what to ask for,” he said honestly.

“A prank you have been thinking about?” Peter suggested. Remus shook his head. He enjoyed participating in their pranks, particularly working out the kinks and learning new spells for them, but he wasn’t the type to come up with his own. He had a knack for perfecting ideas, but not coming up with them out of the blue on his own.

“Hogsmeade after hours? You like the night, you like Hogsmeade,…” James said, voice trailing off at the end. Remus shook his head again with a small frown. Running around at night was not something he would be up to, two days after a full moon.

“A few hours undisturbed in the Restricted Section?” Sirius’ offer was the first one to pique Remus’ interest. He loved the idea, but was unsure how they could insure that. Even with a cloak, the section got checked too often by the librarian during the day and in the night house elves checked often to make sure nobody was present.

“Could we — I mean how could we do that?” he asked, and his lips remained parted after he spoke. His friends could see his excitement and James let out a whoop of triumph.

“We have it, gentlemen! Remus’ birthday wish,” he said, putting his arms around the shoulders of the two boys next to him.

“I’m still not sure how we will get away with it,” Remus said, chuckling.

“Anything’s possible for the Marauders!”

Their plan didn’t need to be nearly as complicated as Remus had first assumed. It had come down to using Professor Detna’s affection for Remus for their advantage.

“I am still unsure why you need to research the Unforgivable Curses,” Detna said as she stared down at them with distaste. Three of them had stayed over after class to talk to her, and ask her for a permission slip to get into the Restricted Section. Remus had gone out to quickly put on the invisibility cloak, and was next to them, watching quietly. “It’s not even in the curriculum at all until well after OWL level.”

“We heard some students talking about it,” Peter said quickly. He was good at controlling his expression, but had always found speaking out a lie quite difficult. “We’re curious.”

“You do not need to study such advanced and _dark_ magic,” she replied, unconvinced.

“I would like to be an Auror,” James declared, puffing his chest slightly, “I need to start young if I want to learn enough to be as brilliant at it as I will be.” He paused. “Wouldn’t you rather have us revising over the weekend, no matter the subject, than causing trouble?” He shot her a smile that was too sincere for her liking.

“You don’t need to _perform_ dark magic as an Auror, Potter,” she said, completely unconvinced. She looked like she was about to tell them to leave her classroom.

James shot Sirius a look as if to say ‘your turn’. Charming people was his forte, after all.

“Well, I suppose,” Sirius said with a fake sigh, turning slightly as if to leave. “We’ll just have to find something else to work on. There are plenty of Defense books in the main library. Remus is gone again, of course, so he can’t complain about us interrupting his revision.”

James picked up his idea so quickly that Remus had to wonder if they were long-lost twins, somehow. “Oh, right,” James said, nodding his head and moving away from Detna’s desk a few steps. He frowned. “He _is_ gone a lot, isn’t he?” He scratched his chin, pretending to think. “What do you think his mother _has_ that has him going home this often? I mean really, who gets sick exactly once a month?”

“Maybe we can find out in the library,” Sirius said, nodding his head. “For it not to be cured for years, it must be something Dark. Maybe she was an Auror?” He paused again, and then suddenly his head jolted upwards and he looked at James with wide eyes, as if a brilliant idea had just now formed in his head. “Oh! James! What if something happened to her on a mission? Like she got mauled by a troll or something, and the injury didn’t heal?”

“I know just the book to look at — _The Monster Manual —_ I saw a seventh year reading with it for his NEWT exam. It had all sorts of dark creatures in it.”

Detna’s face was white. Remus could see that it had worked. She was worried they would find out about Remus, and was scared of that. He felt a ping of guilt in his stomach at using his professor’s fondness of him in this way. The thought quickly disappeared when he caught the glint of happiness in James’ eyes when he understood the same. They wouldn’t do anything bad, after all. He just wanted to read some books.

“Yes, yes,” Sirius agreed, “That’s what we could work on this weekend. There’s also—”

“Maybe,” Detna cut in, “You should write me an essay about the Unforgivables. If you write, say, a three-feet essay on them, it would not be a pointless endeavor.

Sirius tamed his grin before turning to the professor. “That sounds brilliant, Professor.”

Soon, they were out of the classroom and when they were far enough, Remus shrugged off the cloak and handed it back to James. “Cheers.”

“Think nothing of it,” James said, taking the cloak. “Still not sure why you wanted to watch. Did you doubt our ability to charm her socks off?”

“You charmed a _permission slip_ from her, not her socks off,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes. Truth was, he had just wanted to watch them. It was fun to see, even if he wasn’t directly a part of it.

“Right-o, that’s _your_ job, after all,” Sirius said happily.

“So, when you get married, will you take _her_ name or will she take yours?” Peter asked Remus.

Remus groaned. The three other boys laughed.

Unfortunately, the moon had not been kind to Remus this month. He wondered grumpily if the wolf had somehow known that it was a weekend and decided to give Remus a reason to stay in the hospital without risking exposure. After all, absence in the weekend was easier to cover than absence from classes.

He woke up on Sunday with a numbness on his right leg. He frowned before even opening his eyes. He had thought most of the damage had been on his chest, he didn’t recall falling on his—

 _Oh,_ was all he could think when he saw raven-haired locks covering his right thigh, belonging to a sleeping boy that was resting his head on Remus and arms on Remus’ bed.

“Sirius?” he whispered, wanting to wake the boy up before Pomfrey caught them. When he got no response, he willed his torso to move forward - which did, but gave him aching pain in protest - and nudged Sirius’ shoulder. “Sirius!”

He glanced around to see if any of the others were here, but they weren’t. Sirius had the map in one of his hands. Remus sighed. He had not only risked Pomfrey finding out that he knew, he had also risked getting the map confiscated or worse, destroyed.

“Sirius!” he said, louder this time.

The sleeping boy finally woke up, and when he turned around Remus could see that he had dried drool on his cheek and presumably Remus’ sheets. He gave Remus a sheepish grin and rubbed his left eye with his fist, yawning.

“ _Sirius!_ ” Remus hissed, getting annoyed at the lack of response.

“G’morn’n,” Sirius mumbled, grinning at Remus again. Remus was _not_ looking at how attractive his tousled hair falling onto his forehead was. He most certainly was not noticing how full his sleep-puffy lips looked, revealing shiny white teeth as they were spread into a grin.

No, he was not thinking about Sirius. Especially not his mouth. He probably had morning breath.

“You’ll get caught, what are you doing here?” Remus whispered.

“Didn’t want you to wake up alone on your birthday,” Sirius whispered back, and gave Remus’ leg a quick pat at the end of his sentence. He didn’t move his hand away afterwards.

 _Bugger_ , he thought, _I like him._

“Happy birthday, Remus,” Sirius said, still smiling, and got up. His fingertips were still on Remus’ leg and he was acutely aware of it, using all of his concentration on _not_ looking down at his leg.

“Thank you, Sirius,” he whispered back, and allowed himself a small smile. _Can he see my chest moving? It must be moving, with how fast my heart is beating. Bloody hell._

“Any time” was all Sirius said before he finally moved away and turned to leave. “By the way,” he added, “We told Detna we wanted to delay it to next weekend because I got detention. It will be delayed, but you will get your birthday wish.” And with a quick glance at the map, he was gone.

 _I like him,_ Remus thought again, staring after his friend, _How did I not notice before?_

After that day, Remus kept catching himself staring at Sirius, and swiftly correcting the behavior. But no matter how many times he did so, he kept drifting back into either gazing at his friend or daydreaming about him. He wasn’t sure if he had always done so - he suspected from how naturally it came - or if he had just now started. If he had been staring at Sirius this much before, surely somebody would have said something. Maybe they knew, like Peter had about Frank.

He had suggested, after having found Sirius with the map out in the open, that they need to charm it so it can only be read by the four of them. Peter had jumped at the idea, saying it should be a password, a motto of sorts. After two weeks of discussions, they decided that the ink would reveal itself when the words “I solemnly swear I am up to no good” were said, and disappear with “Mischief managed”. James had insisted they add extra pizzazz by making the ink appear on the parchment animated, instead of all at once. At first they had been annoyed at the extra work, but the end result had been worth it.

As they said the sentences over and over again, looking down at the map with glee, Remus found himself watching Sirius again. How heartily he was laughing, head tossed back carelessly, arms supporting himself from behind, legs draped with effortless elegance on the bed.

 _Can I think of him like that,_ he thought, feeling guilty all of a sudden. It felt wrong, to be staring at his friend in the way that he was. He felt like he was violating some sort of trust. He wondered how he would feel if Peter or James had looked at _him_ like that. It would feel odd at best.

 _Or Sirius,_ he couldn’t help but think, _If Sirius looked at me like this…_

He shook his head, trying to shake the thought out of his head as if it were a material thing.

James noticed, and raised an eyebrow at him. “What is it, Remus?” he asked.

“Nothing, just remembered that we still haven’t asked you what you want for your birthday,” he lied easily.

James’ eyes lit up, and he bounced off of his bed. “I thought you would never ask!” he said with excitement.

“I have a feeling you already know what you want,” Sirius chuckled, getting up to be eye-level with his best friend.

“A duel with Snivellus,” James replied, not skipping a beat.

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“I want to have a duel in Defense with Snivellus,” James repeated.

“Why?” Sirius asked, frowning, “And why _in class_?”

“I want him humiliated,” James said, trying to sound casual but Remus could tell that there was something that his friend wasn’t sharing. He decided not to pry.

Sirius, of course, had no qualms about prying. “Right, but we can humiliate him in many ways. In fact, we often do.”

James sighed. He shrugged and looked away. “Muggle studies,” he said, trying to sound confident. He shrugged again, and turned back to his friends. “Not that I _care_ ,” he said, stressing the last word unnecessarily strongly, “But I owe him a very public humiliation.”

Remus didn’t take Muggle Studies with them since he already lived with a muggle, so he didn’t know what had happened. By the grin Sirius was fighting off, it had to have been funny.

“What?” Peter asked. He didn’t take the class either.

“It’s nothing,” James said at the same time Sirius said “Snivellus is a knobhead.”

James looked around at his friends as if he figured he might as well tell them, but he didn’t look happy about it. “He cast some sort of spell on my homework, and it… It turned it into gibberish.”

“Gibberish?” Peter asked, frowning in confusion. Why would it be embarrassing if James’ parchment had obvious gibberish on it? He could easily see James charming his way out of it, making a joke out of it and making the whole class laugh with him.

“I don’t know how he did it, but he only changed _some_ words,” he said through gritted teeth, “It made me sound like a complete idiot.”

“It’s fine, mate,” Sirius said, his ghost of a grin gone at seeing his friend in distress, “Nobody cares about muggle studies.”

James gave a non-committal shrug and pursed his lips. “I need to use the loo,” he said abruptly and walked out of the dormitory. Sirius looked after him, but did not follow. James wasn’t using the dormitory bathroom, he obviously wanted to be alone.

“What did the parchment say that has him worked up so much?” Peter asked Sirius.

“I think it was more how much people laughed, really,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Neither of us are used to being bad at anything and Muggle Studies already confuses us enough without sabotage.”

“You were almost going to laugh when he first brought it up,” Remus said before he could stop himself, “It must have been a little funny.”

Sirius smiled. “Yes, well,” he said, “The Professor read a few answers out loud, yelling at James if this was a joke, had he really not listened to a single lecture, etc.. I didn’t get all of it, but some things even _I_ know. One of the questions was ‘how do muggle students get to school’ and the answer had been changed to ‘horse carriages’.” He paused. “Obviously they don’t use carriages, James has been over at mine in London and lives close to a muggle town himself. We’ve seen cars.”

Peter frowned. “I’m not sure if horse carriages are that funny.”

Remus smiled, imagining horse carriages carrying students to school. He didn’t know what was funnier: Imagining a romantic one where confused kindergartners sat in red cushioned seats, or carriages being used like busses, filled to the brim, poor kids trying not to fall off. “It’s not a usual form of transportation,” he said to Peter with a straight face, “It would be very odd to even attempt such a thing. Forget the cars in the traffic, the sheer number of students would make it all a big chaos. It just wouldn’t happen.” Remus noticed Sirius was listening with interest. He wondered if there was more to Sirius’ interest in muggles than rebellion.

“Anyway,” he continued, turning to Sirius, “A duel should be easy enough to arrange.”

Happy for the change of subject, Sirius nodded. “Just need to use Pandy’s love for you again.”

~

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class closest to James’ birthday was a couple of days earlier, on Monday, but he didn’t mind at all. He said he expected his cake to be extra large to make up for it with a pout, but they knew that he was just happy he would get to embarrass Snape.

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin, for another excellent demonstration,” Detna said, lowering her wand. They had done a very short mock duel with a time limit of three minutes, showing the rest of the class several of the newer spells they had learned. “I know the aim was to use at least two spells learned this month but you snuck four in there, good job.” He had surprised her towards the very end with a Fumos which, although she had avoided it, had left some smoke that was still lingering next to her.

“I got the idea from Mr. Snape,” Remus lied, and even without turning he could see from the corner of his eye that the boy had risen up in his seat to look at Remus with curiosity. “He was practicing it earlier, telling his classmates about its usefulness.” The lie rolled off his tongue with the ease his friends always told him they envied.

“Happy to hear you practicing, Mr. Snape,” Detna said, turning towards the boy who didn’t acknowledge her sentence, but was instead glaring at Remus with well founded suspicion. 

Remus finally let himself look directly at the boy, with an innocent smile. “He was quite good at casting it, from what I saw,” he told Detna without taking his eyes off of Snape.

“Alright then, come here, Mr. Snape,” she said, waving him over. She had picked her first dueler for the day. “You can sit down, Mr. Lupin. Now, who wants to—”

“I’ll do it,” Sirius said immediately, with too much enthusiasm.

Detna frowned. “This is a classroom, not a place to hex fellow students,” she said with distaste, “I’ve seen you and him arguing just before class. Forgive me for not wanting a repeat with wands raised.”

Sirius put on his best fake pout. “Professor, I merely wanted to practice,” he said, “James and I have been working on getting the Knockback Jinx right but it just won’t work. We thought it might be because our dormitory is small and we are scared of casting it in case we hurt ourselves.”

Detna looked at him, trying to read if he was being honest. She didn’t believe for a second that Sirius didn’t have every intention to hurt Snape as soon as the duel started, but she _did_ believe that perhaps the two had been revising, earlier.

“Fine. Mr. Potter, come,” she said in the end. Even though they were close friends, since Potter was not the one arguing earlier, he would at least be less heated. Regardless of their infatuation to mischief, they were some of her best students, and she did want them to practice.

Sirius waited until she had turned around and James was in front of Snape with his wand drawn out to let out his cat-that-got-the-cream grin.

“The new professors are always the easiest to trick,” he whispered, his breath warm on Remus’ cheek, “By the time a DADA professor understands how we operate, they’re gone!”

He pulled back and Remus wished that he had something to whisper back so he would have an excuse to be that close to Sirius again.

Before his brain had a chance to cooperate, the duel had started, and they both turned to watch James and Snape.

The duel started surprisingly tame, with slow, almost lazy wand movements from James and a constantly alert Snape. It almost looked like Snape was too cautious to cast anything, trying to follow James’ movements closely so he did not get hit by something while distracted.

“Like a cat with a mouse!” Peter said quietly, and Sirius nodded in agreement. James did have that kind of air about him. His usual cocky demeanor was even more pronounced when the rightfully spooked Snape was holding back.

When Detna’s charmed hourglass spun around the two students announcing that the second minute was over, everything changed. Remus, who had been paying close attention to James’ face, was the first to notice the shift in atmosphere. James had an almost evil look on his face now, eyes shining with determination.

“Flipendo,” James muttered quietly and Remus wondered if students without his werewolf had heard it at all. They had surely seen Snape fly across the long classroom and hit the wall with force. James _had_ been practicing.

Snape, to his credit, got his wits about very quickly and shot back a Verdimillious charm which James avoided so easily as he walked towards the fallen boy that Remus wondered how serious James had been about being an Auror. Maybe it hadn’t just been a lie to trick Detna.

“Expelliarmus!” both boys called out at once (James calmly, Snape with a sneer). Snape’s wand flew quickly and gracefully into James’ open palm.

James kept walking towards Snape, even though this should have marked the end of their duel.

“You saw how easy I went on you,” he drawled, looking around the room as if he was bored. “You still could not hold your own.” His foot was inches away from Snape now. Snape looked stunned onto the spot and was not making a move to get up, potentially to avoid further confrontation with the clearly aggravated James.

“It’s easy to say that when you have a professor here to protect you,” Snape spat. The meaning was clear to both boys. Snape had not wanted to use any spells that would get him a detention. James may have been deliberately slow, but Snape had been forgiving with his choice of spells.

At the unspoken challenge, James grinned. “You always did like green, but I prefer red myself,” he said quietly. “Rubermillious,” he muttered with a characteristic, arrogant drawl. Most students their age needed more conviction and volume to cast their spells but both James and Sirius never had.

Before the red sparks could hit Snape’s chest, an invisible shield appeared in front of them, with the faint glimmer of magic. James frowned, disappointed. Snape was still looking at him with anger.

“Professor!” Lily shouted, and James noticed that she was right next to them now, with her wand out. She had been the one to cast the protection spell.

“Hey Evans,” he said with a grin, as if they had just bumped into each other in a hallway.

“Professor,” Lily continued, ignoring James and turning to Professor Detna. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

“They still had ten seconds left,” Detna said matter-of-factly, but her expression showed some guilt. “We had agreed to three minutes.”

“He could have gotten really hurt!” Lily said, upset enough to speak back to a professor which none of the Marauders had seen her do before. She held out her hand to Snape and he got up without taking it, but gave her a grateful smile. “You alright, Sev?” she asked him, eyes filled with worry.

Snape nodded.

“Don’t worry,” Detna said cheerfully, “It is actually surprisingly easy to heal back from millious spells.” She turned to the other students, beginning to give them a lecture. Lily stared at her, mouth gaping open, as if she could not believe it. “They were originally invented as beacon spells, therefore any harm they cause is merely a side-effect of being in front of the light at the time. It is not, at its core, a harmful spell.”

“He still would have ended up in the hospital wing!” Lily insisted, cheeks flushed with anger. James’ grin had left its place to an unimpressed frown as he looked at her. Remus was sure James was thinking ‘what is her problem?’

Detna waved her hand dismissively. “If we let that stop us, dear, we would never be able to train anybody at anything. You like Potions, from what I hear. Think we could get that going if we stopped every time a student ended up at the hospital wing?”

Lily glared at James as if he had been the one to dismiss her, not Detna. She huffed and walked back to her chair with Snape, putting her arm around his shoulders. “That was unnecessary,” she spat at James as she walked away.

“Class dismissed!” Professor Detna said as her hourglass flew around the room, spreading colorful sparks. As soon as she said it, most of the Gryffindor students went to congratulate James.

He was clearly enjoying the attention but from the glances he kept shooting at Lily, Remus could tell that part of his joy had been taken out by her disapproval.

“That was _amazing_ , James!” Peter gasped as they walked away from the classroom.

~

Marauders spent their time outside of class in a mixture of mischief and the occasional hexing of unsuspecting students. The latter was one of the things that Remus never joined his friends in doing. He simply had no desire and got no pleasure from muttering a tickling spell as he walked by a first year. It wasn’t even that he felt guilty, he just got no joy out of it. He suspected Peter didn’t either, but joined James and Sirius to gain their favor. They were very public with most of their activities, but did not socialize out of their circle otherwise.

For people who were _not_ the Marauders, spring was apparently an unspoken - but widely accepted - time for romance. Sirius and James had gotten more love letters in April than they had for Valentine’s. Remus knew because they made a point of publicly burning them or, on some occasions, reading them out loud, laughing until they had tears in their eyes.

So when a short, blonde first-year approached them holding a roll of pink parchment in her hands, Remus already knew what she had come to deliver.

“Hello,” she said quietly, looking at Sirius.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, not bothering to get up from the grass.

“I’m here to give you this,” she continued.

 _Poor girl,_ Remus thought, _I hope Sirius just burns it quickly so this can be over._

“Who are you?” James asked. Remus turned to look at him. They didn’t ask for people’s names, even if they _were_ interested in them. Why would James ask now?

“Sid,” she said.

“Your full name,” he asked again, propping himself up further on his elbows, grinning.

“I’m delivering this for Thana,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“Right, but what’s _your_ name?” James pressed, obviously enjoying himself. After that, even Sirius turned to give him a curious look.

“It’s not relevant,” she squeaked, then held out the parchment to Sirius. “Just take it.”

“Not until you say your full name,” Sirius said with a smile, looking at the parchment, then back at the girl.

She made a face as if she had eaten a lemon whole. “I have to deliver this, we made a deal. Just take it.”

“Your. Name.” Sirius repeated. Remus, seeing her troubled expression and blush, almost said something to stop them, but of course did not.

“It’s Sidero Raper,” she said, looking away, and waving the parchment towards Sirius.

Sirius looked at the parchment but didn’t take it. “Your parents named you ‘nymph raper’?” he said, dead-panned.

“Just take the stupid parchment,” she said and Remus was grateful that at least she was too young to be embarrassed too much about this. She just seemed annoyed. Most girls in school would have died of shame if they had had to do this in front of Sirius and James.

“Gladly, raper,” he said, taking it and chucking it to the side immediately. “Come find me in a few years. I’m interested to see what a nymph raper grows into after puberty,” he continued with a charming grin that, by the looks of it, Sid was ready to claw off.

She turned around and left without a word.

“You know,” Sirius told James who was laughing, “Sometimes I just hear names and wonder why. I mean, how much does a parent need to hate a child to do that? My parents hate me deeply but they still didn’t name me _nymph raper_.”

“They _did_ name you something that makes it extremely difficult to talk to you, sometimes,” Peter said.

“Not at all. It’s easy to pronounce and the _brightest_ star. What ever can be difficult about saying it?” Sirius asked with faked innocence.

Remus snorted.

“I didn’t realize how often I said ‘seriously’ before I met you,” James said, shaking his head, “It’s one of those things where you didn’t notice it until somebody tells you, then it is all you can see. If you had asked me as a kid how often I said ‘serious’ I would say ‘almost never’. But as soon as I was not _allowed_ to say it anymore, suddenly it felt like I wanted to say it ten times a day.”

“You still can,” Sirius said with a grin.

“Not unless I want to punch you in the face,” James said grimly.

“Oi,” Sirius said in protest, but laughed.

“ _Honestly_ ,” James said, and Remus could tell he wished he could have said ‘seriously’, “If I hear that pun one more time, I will have to punch you. Or myself. Or both of us.”

A shadow appeared in front of them briefly, before a fourth year Hufflepuff sat down next to Sirius. He turned to her and blinked, then gave her a big grin.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he muttered. His wording made Remus look at her with more attention.

She was wearing a muggle sundress ( _It’s not_ ** _that_** _warm,_ Remus thought), and her dark red hair was dropping onto the smooth skin on her exposed shoulders with such grace that Remus was sure it had to be charmed.

“Hi,” she said with a giggle, then leaned over. “Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Remus saw Sirius do some thinking in his head, as if calculating something. Within a second, the look was gone and replaced with a smirk.

“How about we get to the chase?” he said and leaned in to kiss her.

Peter’s eyes grew as wide as Galleons and even James looked impressed, eyebrows raised. Remus had expected the girl - who they had _never_ spoken to, as far as he knew - to push Sirius away but she giggled into their kiss and responded. Deepened it, even.

“Only Sirius can get away with something like that!” Peter gasped.

James only smiled in return, and Remus knew that James was already planning on doing the same thing. After what seemed like an eternity to Remus but was actually less than twenty seconds, Sirius pulled away.

“Dinner tomorrow? I can steal something from the kitchens and we can have a picnic,” he said, looking at her in the eyes with a smoulder.

She giggled again. Remus would have rather heard nails scratching a blackboard. “Yes,” she said breathlessly. As he watched her walk away, Remus wondered how he was going to survive if one kiss from a girl made him feel this worked up. He knew his face was schooled into calmness - he had too much practice to have lost his grip now - but inside he was fuming.

He had known from the beginning that nothing could come of his attraction to Sirius, but watching him with others hurt more than he had expected. He hadn’t felt hurt when Frank had started dating. He’d even caught Frank without his shirt on once, snogging a girl, and his only thought had been how good Frank’s chest looked. He had used the image when he was alone in his bed that night, but had not given any thought to the girl at all. Frank could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. He just happened to be a very, very attractive boy.

 _Sirius can also do whatever with whoever_ , he told himself, _It’s none of my business. I can’t get jealous._

~

To Remus’ delight _and_ dismay, Sirius’ ‘relationship’ with the Hufflepuff girl - _Ruth,_ Remus thought to himself, _Who calls their child_ ** _Ruth_** _?_ \- did not last long. They met a few times and Sirius quickly ditched her. That part had been delightful. She had had tears in her eyes when he had broken up with her. Remus had had to keep putting food in his mouth to make his grin less obvious.

The _non_ -delightful part was that that kiss seemed to have woken up something within Sirius. Something that wanted to snog constantly. He wasn’t dating per se, but he had his lips locked with a girl’s (and once boy’s) lips at least once a week that Remus saw. Merlin only knew what the real count was.

The one good thing that had come out of the whole ordeal of walking in on his friend (and subject of interest)’s snogging was that he had caught him with a boy once which meant that Sirius was bisexual. Remus tried not to get his hopes up, telling himself that sexuality had nothing to do with the impossibility of them being together, but his chest and dreams didn’t seem to agree. He often found himself daydreaming about _him_ being the boy Sirius was clawing at in that broom cupboard.

Since catching Sirius with a boy, his optimism had creeped up on him more than he realized. He didn’t know just how hopeful his daydreaming had gotten until he caught Sirius staring at him, one day on a Hogsmeade trip. They were drinking Butterbeers and Remus had just finished his with a generous tilt of his head, exposing his throat. He hadn’t thought anything of it until he caught Sirius’ eyes on him. His cheeks colored and he tried to keep his face straight. Sirius was _looking at him_. He was looking at him the way Remus looked at the raven-haired boy when he tossed his head back in laughter. Like he wanted to kiss that exposed neck.

After several moments of his heart attempting to escape his chest and the start of a goofy grin on his face, he was jolted out of his daydreaming when suddenly Sirius sat up. For a brief moment Remus wondered if he was coming towards him, but Sirius quickly moved past him and went to the table right behind him. He pulled a chair out, joining, uninvited, the two boys who had been occupying the table.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you,” he told the taller blond one.

The boy laughed, but seemed more amused than interested. “You’re twelve,” he said with a grin.

Sirius ran his hands through his perfectly just-messy-enough hair and grinned back. “Fourteen, actually, but that’s not quite the point here, is it?” He scooted his chair closer to the blond. “There’s nobody as charming as me in sixth year. Who _wouldn’t_ go ’round with me?”

“We’re dating now, are we?” the boy asked with a laugh. After Sirius said ‘sixth year’, Remus noticed that he had indeed seen this boy around school before. Ravenclaw, he was almost sure. “Again: You’re young. I’m not interested in having conversations about how tough OWLs are going to be.”

“Who said anything about conversing?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely curious. “Why on earth would we waste our time with that?”

The blond raised an eyebrow but did not reply.

Sirius got up slowly and stretched out his arms above his head, making sure to casually flash a bit of skin where his shirt met his jeans. Remus wondered if that was why he had chosen to wear muggle clothes to Hogsmeade. “I’ll be at the Astronomy tower tonight if you’re interested,” he said once he was done stretching, sounding bored. “If you’re not there at eight, that’s alright, that’ll give me enough time to browse elsewhere.”

He didn’t look back as he returned to the Marauders’ table. Even though his seat faced the blond, he made a point to look away naturally, clinking his glass with James’ with a quick “cheers”. The blond was staring at Sirius with great interest now. Remus turned back towards their table before his staring got too obvious.

 _So that’s who he was looking at as if he wanted to kiss them_ , he thought to himself, _Not me._

At age fourteen, Remus had not quite given up on love yet. He had not sunk into the full acceptance of his condition. He still held hope for at least fleeting romances. But that day, he did lose hope regarding his best friend potentially wanting him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment! :) They warm my heart and make me so happy.


	6. Eager to Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four significant things Remus remembers from fourth year.  
> WARNING: UNDERAGE SEXUAL ACTS (no intercourse or oral sex).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is even more “reflection”-type than the rest. I chose to do this because I found that there were very few moments I wanted to share in fourth year, and this seemed a quick way to relate them. I am looking forward to the next chapter. Gimme that conflict. I have written most of it, so I expect I will update that soon, maybe tomorrow.
> 
> WARNING: Underage fondling between boys! It is the very last part, so you can just not read the fourth part. It doesn’t really affect the overall story. They are around fifteen in the scene.
> 
> It’s odd, back when I was that age we did much more, but it always feels a bit odd and a bit wrong thinking of the ages when I write about it.

**Fourth Year - 1974/1975**

 

**_At the start, I was so eager to please_ **

**_Fall in love before you know what it means_ **

**_So many others leave it behind_ **

**_But I never get used to goodbyes_ **

_Blank You Out - Seafret_

 

 

There are four things that happen in fourth year that, two decades later, Remus Lupin remembers with shocking clarity.

 

One: James’ obsession with fires.

 

The summer before James had accidentally set a tablecloth on fire when, coming back long past dinner time, his mother had scolded him for letting his dinner get cold. Without even thinking about it, he had set the tablecloth underneath his plate ablaze. He had apologized immediately of course, even though it had been involuntary. He hadn’t even been that angry, it was just a bit of uncontrolled magic as he thought about warming the food.

The reason Remus knew about this was because the sight had sent a thrill down James’ spine, making him become obsessed with fires for the better part of the year. As soon as he was back at Hogwarts and able to cast magic, he had started creating fires, small and big. Almost all their pranks seemed to involve _some_ fire now, even if it was in the form of torches for light instead of a Lumos spell.

Not that the bespectacled boy needed an excuse; Remus had more than once walked into the dormitory to find a tapestry or piece of bark burning away.

Once, after James had “successfully” burnt down the empty stable meant to house Hippogriffs later that year, Remus had heard James tell a screaming Lily “They remind me of your beautiful hair!” cheekily. She hadn’t even bothered to give him a response, leaving him behind to pout.

The werewolf knew that it wasn’t true. He saw the way James looked at fire. It wasn’t love or affection. It was pure adrenaline. The danger was what excited James; nothing more, nothing less.

The memory of James’ obsession with fire always stuck out in Remus’ mind because the allure danger had to his two dark-haired friends was a defining part of their personalities. The professors thought that they just liked causing trouble because they were energetic, bored boys - and it was true - but they didn’t understand the drive that was within them. Remus doubted even Peter understood it. They were alive in a way that nobody Remus met at Hogwarts or after came close to.

Well, Charlie Weasley had a similar passion for dangerous things but it was not the same. Life bowed down to James and Sirius, and they reveled in making it do so. Charlie might enjoy taming wild dragons, but James and Sirius would _poke_ dragons to get them angry for the fun of the fight.

 

Two: Severus Snape’s relationship with dark magic.

 

They had known since they were old enough to duel in hallways that Severus Snape wanted to practice dark magic. They had even seen him cast several spells that no book outside the Restricted Section would have. But the first unmistakable evidence of the level of his dedication came on an otherwise uneventful March afternoon.

The full moon was that night and James, Sirius and Peter were making plans to revise in the library while looking for potential new spells for the map. Remus wasn’t sure if it was the somberness of the occasion or if they didn’t want him to think that they were having too much fun without him but it seemed that since his friends had found out about his condition, they made a point of being in the library or on another mundane task on full moon nights.

The Marauders were chatting idly and walking towards the library when they saw Snape coming towards them with books in hand, presumably on his way back from it. Remus didn’t need to look to his left to know that James was grinning. Sure enough, as they got closer to Snape James casually drifted more towards the other boy and eventually made a point of hitting him with his shoulder as they passed him.

“Potter!” Snape growled.

James closed his eyes and his grin grew. He turned around, facing Snape. For somebody who claimed to hate the boy, he almost always seemed pleased to run into him.

“Yes, Snivellus?” he asked innocently.

“Have some manners,” Snape spat.

Sirius sniggered. James shrugged, looking disinterested, trying to offend Snape without words.

“Apologize,” Snape said. Remus didn’t understand why Snape would not let it go. He was alone, and there were four of them. Remus himself never bothered to talk back to his bullies - it only gave them more of a reason to go after him, after all. Why was Snape so easy to bait?

After pretending to consider it, James said “I don’t think I will.”

Even with his heightened perception and reflexes, Remus didn’t catch who drew his wand first, but within seconds the two were dueling and Sirius and Peter were laughing as James’ hexes hit their mark. James was not an elegant dueler, but he had a talent for making it look easy. It was similar to watching a mother cook: She might not be a Michelin star chef, but would smile and take care of everything without anybody noticing the strain.

Snape, in contrast, was all obvious anger and spit flowing out of his mouth as he shouted hex after hex. Some would miss simply because he was too quick and careless to utter the words.

Maybe, Remus would think when he reflected upon the memory years later, maybe Snape was pretending, at least a little bit. Because when Snape fell onto the floor after a Flipendo spell that Remus didn’t see hit, he fell a bit too easily onto the floor, wand still in hand and pointing at James. James walked over to him, hovered over the smaller boy with a big grin, ready to cast a final blow - probably a stunning spell - and was instead hit with a spell none of them had heard of before.

“SECTUMSEMPTRA!”

Blood. Cuts and blood everywhere. Remus didn’t know if it was the smell or the sight that made him shudder. Probably both. He looked over at Sirius and Peter who were running over to James. James got up before they reached him, huffing, one shoulder lower than the other. He looked surprised, staring at Snape as if he had never seen him before. Snape looked pleased with himself.

“Petrificus—” James started, speaking softly either because he was still shock or - Remus suspected - because he was in too much pain to put more power into speaking.

“MR. POTTER!” came the horrified shriek of Professor McGonagall. All of the boys turned to look at her.

James’ wand hand was shaking but he did not put it away, and kept his wand pointing at Snape.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked through pursed lips, looking at all of them, as if suspecting that they may have been going after Snape together. When she got close enough, she noticed James’ injuries. Remus wondered if she could see the shake of his hand, too. James was doing a good job trying to keep still.

McGonagall promptly took points away from both houses for dueling, as well as a week’s worth of detention for Snape due to the injuries caused.

“Mr. Snape, if I so much as hear your name and Potter’s in the same room in the next ten days, I will personally make sure you are not allowed to leave the dungeons for much longer. Either with full body bind or as a snake in a cage. Your choice.” She turned to the Marauders. “Whatever caused this, you boys need time apart to cool down.”

Afterwards, she brought James to the hospital wing. He was uncharacteristically quiet and when she inquired about what had started the fight (Remus thought she wanted a reason to believe it was Snape’s fault), all James said was “Sorry.”

The significance of this event was that until that day, James had never hated Snape. Oh of course all Marauders had more than once expressed their “loathing” for the greasy-haired boy but truthfully they just disliked him and were annoyed by his constant attempts at getting them in trouble. But that evening they had seen him cast a dark curse. One meant to hurt a person enough to kill; definitely not to be used casually even in real, adult duels. They had known that even before Madam Pomfrey told them the extent of his injuries and blood loss.

James had not made his hatred for the Dark Arts a secret by any means. He was quite vocal about it. Remus, until then, had thought it mostly a ‘hero syndrome’-type thing. That James wanted to save innocent damsels in distress and fight big evil wizards like Grindelwald. But the grudge he held for Snape after that evening showed a dedication going beyond that of a common Auror-wannabe. Not for the pain - he had been in much more pain after duels before - but for the fact that it had been a _dark_ curse. After that evening, James truly hated Snape.

 

Three: Sirius Black kissed him.

 

Sirius had been dating with the determination of a Niffler trying to get away with as many trinkets as he could from a vault. The rate he was going through students was more the act of a collector than the “passionate young man” he claimed to be. Perhaps that was why Remus wasn’t really jealous. Not of Sirius, not of his dates. It seemed quite meaningless, to him. He had had a short-lived summer romance with a muggle back home and he would not have exchanged those two months with a dozen of Sirius’ conquests.

This did not mean, however, that he did not often imagine it was himself snogging Sirius on the common room couch rather than whoever Sirius’ flavor-of-the-week was. It also did not stop him from seeing Sirius’ rapidly-changing body when he closed his eyes at night to touch himself.

 _It’s not my fault,_ he would think to himself if guilt for thinking of his friend this way ever came up, _It’s his bloody perfect genes and Merlin I couldn’t stop staring at his nape at dinner, I am positive he was fondling it on purpose. He likes people thinking of him that way._

Somehow, Sirius Black did not have a date for the Christmas party they were having in the Room of Requirements. Not many fourth years had been invited but of course Sirius and James (and, by proxy, Remus and Peter) had been.

When they arrived - fashionably late - they found the party bigger than anticipated. Obviously, word had gotten around, even if official invitations had been scarce. It seemed more than half of the student body was there. When the organizer of the party, a Hufflepuff seventh year that Remus could never remember the name of, complained of running out of snacks, James and Peter went down to the kitchens to grab more.

Just as they entered the room again, they ran into a red-faced, fidgeting Remus and a Sirius who was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. “Oh come on,” Sirius was teasing Remus.

“I refuse!” Remus blurted out, not looking at Sirius.

“What’s this about?” James asked with a grin, letting the snacks float away from him with a wave of his wand, and grinning at his two friends.

Sirius pointed upwards. They were under a mistletoe. He grinned back at James.

“I don’t even know how it happened!” Remus almost-shouted. His friends assumed his composure being all but gone was due to alcohol and found it amusing. The truth was, Remus hadn’t even drunk a single drop of wine. It was Sirius making him feel this way. He could _not_ kiss Sirius. He was quite certain it would end up with his dying on the spot.

“Well, regardless, you have to kiss to get out of it,” James said, and his grin turned into a softer smile. Remus could see James’ brain working as he looked at the werewolf and wondered if James thought that he had never kissed anyone before. He couldn’t imagine why else James would be looking at him with kind eyes otherwise. “It doesn’t have to be the snog of the century. Just a quick peck on the lips.”

Remus groaned.

“Is kissing me such a terrible thought?” Sirius asked, voice colored with mock-hurt.

“It’s probably your horrible breath, mate,” James said jokingly, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…”

“Berk,” Sirius muttered and moved as if to smack James but James dodged it by taking a step back, out of reach of the raven-haired boy who was stuck by magic under the mistletoe.

Sirius turned back to Remus, drew a breath and opened his mouth but before he could speak, James did.

“Incendio!” He had burnt the mistletoe above them.

Sirius laughed and Remus found himself laughing back in relief.

After an hour more of the party, Remus had had enough and went back to the dormitory. He was sure he had snuck out without being noticed until he heard the dormitory door open and close behind him less than a minute later.

He watched as the _inexplicably, unfairly, devastatingly handsome_ Sirius Black made his way towards his bed. He could pretend not to be watching as Sirius took off his shirt on his way, but he found he didn’t want to and Sirius’ sloppy movements suggested that he was still drunk. Hopefully he would either not notice, or forget it if he did.

“Like what you see?” came Sirius’ hoarse voice, now close enough that Remus could smell the alcohol on him. There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as Sirius put his knee on Remus’ bed, and got partially on top of him from the side, his left foot still on the floor.

“I never got my kiss,” he said simply and reached out for Remus’ lips with his fingers. His thumb traced his lower lip and the werewolf hoped his whole body wasn’t shaking, because it sure felt like it was.

Sirius closed the distance between them and the tenderness surprised Remus more than the kiss itself. He had expected either a joking peck or a full drunken snog. Instead, it was a soft, slow brushing of the lips. Sirius put enough pressure against his lips that it felt like a real, passionate kiss but he did not deepen it or moan into it the way the muggle boy, Alan, used to. Remus didn’t know how long the kiss lasted but it could not have been more than ten seconds. Too soon, Sirius was pulling back, but his hand lingered on Remus’ cheek for several moments before he got up and walked to his own bed.

Remus stayed, frozen, and put his hand up to his jaw where Sirius’ had been. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it felt like it, in the best of ways.

 

Four: He made Sirius Black come.

 

When Sirius kept coming back to his bed for more kissing, Remus felt as excited as he had been the first time he found out he would be allowed to go to Hogwarts. Finally, finally the subject of his lust was willingly coming to him.

It didn’t surprise him at all when, within a month, their snogging had already gotten heated enough for desperate thrusts, pushing their crotches against each other’s to feel some friction through their trousers. The act almost always left both boys with wetness in their pants and flushed cheeks but until a beautiful March night, after James’ birthday party which they had postponed to the weekend since it fell on a full moon, Remus had never felt like it was _him_ that was making Sirius whimper and groan, finally gasping in pleasure as he came. It had been the friction, simple bodily functions resulting in an unavoidable outcome. Not _Remus_.

But that night was different. A drunk Sirius pulled Remus up to their dormitory, and his lips were on the werewolf’s before he had even closed the door properly. Thoughtlessly - without even breaking out of the kiss - he cast a locking charm and almost-carried Remus onto his bed.

His mouth and hands were everywhere. Remus loved these kinds of sessions. Any kiss from Sirius - whether a quick one in an empty classroom before Transfiguration or an hour long session while James and Peter were away on detention - was amazing but every now and again Sirius would get _really_ needy and those were Remus’ favorite times. As Sirius groaned and humped Remus’ leg, he was planting sloppy kisses on the dirty-blond’s neck and leaving it wet with saliva. Remus would have laughed if he weren’t so aroused. He didn’t have a good enough angle to push himself against Sirius, so he moved his hand on top of his trousers, rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“Remus,” Sirius whispered desperately, just short of a whimper, and Remus realized that Sirius was looking down at his crotch. He was startled since most of the time, when they did this, Sirius’ eyes would be closed. If his cheeks had not been flushed with blood already, he would have blushed at having been caught touching himself (through fabric, but still).

What happened next shocked him even more. Sirius quickly got on top of him - normal - gave him a passionate kiss - normal - and then took Remus’ hand and put it on his crotch - not normal. As soon as he did, Remus realized that sometime while all this was going on, Sirius had unzipped his jeans and, since Sirius Black apparently did not believe in pants, Remus’ hand was now on his exposed cock.

As soon as his hand made contact with skin, Sirius let out a small gasp. Nothing happened for several seconds. Remus did not know what to do; they had never done this with Alan. It was unfamiliar territory. His heartbeat raising and cock twitching made it obvious that he was interested, but he simply did not know what to tell his body to do.

“Please,” Sirius moaned and pushed Remus’ hand against his dick. His eyebrows were tilted up and he really did look desperate. If Remus weren’t aware of their current situation, he might have mistaken the look for the face of a boy in real pain from an actual injury.

It was the wrong way around and did not feel natural at all, the angle hurting his wrist slightly, but he started to do to Sirius what he did to himself under the covers at night. Sirius hummed in approval.

At some point, he pushed the base with his thumb a bit harshly but before he could regret it (just in case the other boy didn’t share his liking to it), Sirius let out such a delicious groan that Remus growled deep down in his throat in response, even though he wasn’t the one being touched.

Encouraged by the sounds Sirius was making and the hoarse whispers of Remus’ name being repeated like a mantra, the werewolf continued his exploration until the dark-haired boy buried his head in Remus’ neck and shuddered, coming over their stomachs soundlessly. After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, Sirius gave Remus a peck on the cheek with a quick “ta” and got up from the bed.

As he watched Sirius walk to the bathroom saying he had to use the loo, it didn’t even occur to Remus to ask for reciprocation. He had made Sirius come. _He_ had touched Sirius and made him whimper, made him breathe out his name until he was undone. Remus. Pleasing Sirius gave him a thrill even better than kissing. He now understood the muggle expression ‘on cloud nine’. It felt like being high up on a broom, except he was actually enjoying the sensation rather than being scared for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please kudos and/or comment, it makes my day! :)


	7. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs arrive! Finally we are OFFICIALLY in MWPP territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to include all of their fifth year, but I wanted to keep the theme of two-chapters-per-year going for as many years as I could, so here we are.
> 
> WARNING: Underage (16) groping again.

**Fifth Year, Fall/Winter Term, 1975/1976**

 

**_What a strange being you are_ **

**_God knows where I would be_ **

**_If you hadn't found me, sitting all alone in the dark_ **

**_A dumb screenshot of youth_ **

**_Watch how a cold broken teen_ **

**_Will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof_ **

**_What the hell would I be, without you_ **

**_Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth_ **

_Soulmates - Dodie Clark_

 

The only people surprised by Professor Hackercy not returning were the first (now second) years who somehow hadn’t realized or heard of the curse. What _was_ surprising about this year was that the new professor was surprisingly common-looking. One might have mistaken him for a muggle had it not been for his (rather plain) robes.

“Must be muggle-born,” Sirius said when the Marauders noticed the new face at the professors’ table. “What kind of DADA professor has brown hair for Merlin’s sake? He looks about forty, is wearing the plainest robe ever made— Nothing at all interesting. Doesn’t even seem to have a nervous tick. Look at him, just chatting casually with Minnie.” He sighed. “Boring. I was hoping for someone fun this year.”

“Muggle-borns are boring?” Remus asked, amused.

“Oh shush,” Sirius said, waving his hand, “You know what I mean. He’s just too…too…”

“Plain?” Peter offered.

“I was going to say ‘sane’,” Sirius replied, grinning, “Not something we are known for, us purebloods, eh Jamie?”

James nodded enthusiastically. “Nutters, the lot of us.”

Before Remus could add that he could not argue with that, Dumbledore got up to give his usual dinner speech.

“A very good evening to all of you, newcomers and experienced students alike! Another excellent year of education and growth awaits you. And for that growth, you must eat! I won’t keep you for long, do not worry. Please allow me to introduce to you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Professor Perseus Parkinson.” He paused for a moment to allow some half-hearted clapping from the students. “And now, we feast!” he concluded, and sat down.

“Parkinson. Pureblood, then,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Odd that he’s not, well, odd.”

“At least we can count on him knowing his stuff; Parkinsons are a good bunch, aren’t they?” James replied, reaching out for some pumpkin juice as he spoke.

Listening to the two boys exchanging opinions, Remus wondered what it must be like to be pureblooded, for better or worse. He was sure that the two dark-haired boys meant no offense, but they had clearly judged the professor by his blood. They had also, from a mere name, made conclusions about his abilities because they knew about his family. With all the inside knowledge that they had, they were part of a pureblood ‘clique’ and Remus sometimes felt like a spectator at a sport he had only heard of and didn’t quite understand.

When Remus would remember this memory, years from now, he would be surprised at the clarity of it. At the time, it had not seemed important or significant but the upcoming months would ensure that Remus never, ever forgot Professor Parkinson.

~

Thankfully, the term had its share of wonderful memories as well. The first full moon fell on a Hogsmeade weekend. The Marauders, again, made plans to go to the library. Remus frowned and decided that perhaps it’s time he let his friends off the hook. Perhaps him telling them outright that he knew would convince them not to get bored out of their minds every full moon for his sake.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said, thinking it was as good as any other way to start the conversation.

“What do you mean?” James asked, turning to his friend.

“You don’t have to go to the library on a Saturday just because _I_ can’t join in on the fun. At least go to the dormitory and play Snap or Mud Shot or something.”

“Er— That’s not why we— I mean—” James was tripping over his words, obviously embarrassed by having been caught.

“You’re not very good at sneaking, you know,” Remus said with a raised eyebrow, “I have no idea how we are not in detention more often.”

“Whatever do you mean? I am offended! I am an excellent sneaker!” James said, trying to make a joke out of it, but Remus could still see the ‘I got caught’ expression in his eyes.

“Look,” he said, “I know you always make plans to revise on the full moon, ever since you found out. It is, I assume, so I do not get jealous. But I really don’t care. Trust me, on a full moon, jealousy regarding my friends’ activities is the last thing on my mind.”

At that, James looked surprised. He looked at Sirius and Peter as questioningly. Peter shrugged. Sirius looked irritated.

“I think we can tell him,” Sirius muttered, not looking at any of them.

“Tell me what?” Remus asked, sensing that he had accidentally stumbled upon information that he would very much like to know.

“We’re not ready,” James hissed into Sirius’ ear but the werewolf heard him easily. They should have known by now that that wasn’t a good way to hide from Remus.

“I’m ready,” Sirius replied defiantly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m up to ten minutes,” Peter added, looking at James’ nose instead of his eyes.

James pursed his lips. He considered the information for a while before sighing in defeat and telling Remus to follow them into the Room of Requirements.

As soon as Peter closed the door behind them, something incredible happened: Remus watched as Sirius Black transformed into a big, black dog. He was watching with a gaping mouth when rustling behind him startled him. When he turned, Peter was not there. Instead, there was a grey rat on the floor, looking up at him and playing with his whiskers.

“S’ppose I’ll go last,” James said and before Remus could respond, left his place to a stag.

“Animagi,” Remus whispered, looking at his three friends. Peter was on one of James’ antlers now, moving around excitedly.

James shook his head slightly and, getting the message, Peter scurried down. They all turned back to their human forms.

“Yeah, we are Animagi now,” Sirius confirmed with a cocky grin.

“What— I don’t understand—” Remus spluttered, not knowing what to say. It was amazing. Unbelievable. His _fifteen-year-old_ friends had somehow learned extremely advanced magic. “This summer?” he asked, confused about when they could have had the time to do all the research and practice. Maybe the Black library had books in it? As purebloods, James and Peter may have been allowed to visit Sirius, and not told him so he didn’t feel left out.

“We have been trying for years now,” Peter said, “But the first time any of us managed it for more than a minute was towards the end of spring term.” He paused. “Sirius,” he added.

“I wanted to show you much earlier,” Sirius said with a pout, “But these pillocks couldn’t keep up with me.”

“Oi, I got it the next time we tried, and Petey the time after that. Don’t be an arse.”

Sirius looked like he was about to continue their usual friendly arguing but Remus did not have the patience. He was too curious. “But how? _When_?”

“Every full moon,” Peter said, smiling.

“You went to party at the shack, we pored over books.”

Remus’ eyebrows furrowed. Why would they purposefully keep him away? As far as he knew, he had been part of every single prank since they had cemented their relationship. Why would they do this without him?

As if reading his mind, Sirius spoke again, this time in a gentle, soothing way. “We did it for _you_ , Remus.”

“What? For me?” Now he was even more confused.

“Animagi are, well, animals. Sirius even tested it by going into the forbidden forest last year. None of the creatures reacted to him as a human.”

His three friends stared at him for a while and it took Remus longer to understand than he would have liked to admit. “The full moon,” he gasped.

James nodded, his face almost splitting in half from his giant grin.

“But— Would it be safe?”

Sirius shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Think so,” he muttered. Then, after a thoughtful glance at the ceiling, he said: “We don’t want you to be alone. We think it will help with… You know… The wolf will have something to do instead of go after itself out of boredom.”

“I can’t risk your lives like that, I—” His voice died in his throat. They wanted to be with him during the full moon. They had done what was, by any sane person’s standards, an impossible task to do so.

“What’s life without a little danger, Moony?” James laughed.

“Moony?” Remus asked, looking around as if expecting another person to appear.

“That’s you,” Peter explained, “And I’m Wormtail.” He sounded rather proud.

“What, like nicknames? Why?”

“Well, at first it began as a way to refer to our animal forms. It seemed weird to keep saying mouse-Peter, stag-James and so on,” Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively as he did so. “Then James made the excellent point that all notorious trouble-makers have nicknames. So we decided that we should, too.”

“‘Wormtail’ is not the most menacing of names,” Peter said apologetically, as if he had something to be sorry for, “But when your Animagus is a rat, well, there’s only so many names that match. It was one of the kinder ones.”

“I still say Ratface is a perfectly respectable nickname,” James said seriously, his mouth twitching only slightly as he fought down a smile. “Reminds me of getting drunk. Troublemakers get drunk all the time.”

Remus, wanting to join in on the joke, turned to Sirius. “Let me guess, Grim?” he asked.

“Oooh that would have been _good_ ,” Peter said, nodding.

“Nah, I’m Padfoot,” Sirius said happily.

“And I’m Prongs,” James added, making antler signs with his hands on top of his head as he spoke.

“Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,” Remus repeated as if memorizing a new incantation.

“And Moony,” Sirius said.

Remus rolled his eyes. “We need to come up with something better for me. A bit too on the nose, isn’t it?”

“Your name is Wolf McWolf,” James snorted, “I don’t think you can _get_ any more ‘on the nose’.”

“I’m not Scottish,” Remus replied quietly.

“Point is,” Sirius interjected, “It’s too late now. We have been calling you that amongst ourselves for ages now. It would feel wrong to say something else.” He continued, ignoring Remus’ mouth opening to protest. “I’m glad you know, so I can stop having to make a fool of myself every time I accidentally call you that to your face. Once I had to say the sentence ‘Moony day, isn’t it?’ when I caught myself saying it.”

Now that Sirius had said it, Remus did remember that silly chat. He had thought nothing of it at the time, just Sirius being the oddball that he always was.

“Thank you,” Remus said solemnly, looking at his friends, “Thank you.”

They each hugged him quickly and patted him on the back and murmured words about it not mattering and how they would have a lot of fun once they all managed to stay in form throughout the night.

No longer limited to two days a month, their progress was swift. It took them two months after that conversation to perfect the transformation. The month after that, they joined Remus for the full moon for the first time. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Remus woke up the morning after the full moon and cried tears of joy rather than pain. He had barely been hurt, nothing compared to his usual state.

His friends had saved him from himself. Not only had they accepted him fully but they had taken the terrified, shy little werewolf and given him a life. Given him friends. And now, they were risking their lives to make _his_ life just a little bit better. If he had ever had delusions of being able to survive without them, it was gone now.

~

“Who asks for a two-feet essay on a Friday, due Monday? We don’t even _have_ DADA on Monday,” James complained, frowning at the long parchment in front of him with only three inches of (rather large) writing on it.

“I’ll finish it tonight, Prongs, if you want inspiration,” Remus offered, poring over a book as his quill kept writing.

“Still doesn’t explain why,” Sirius grumbled, “Worth a chunk of our final grade, too!”

“It’s a full moon tomorrow night,” Peter said quietly. For a moment, Remus thought his other two friends hadn’t heard him, but Sirius looked sideways at Peter, confirming that he had been listening.

“At least there will be _some_ fun this weekend, yes,” Sirius said, nodding. His eyes had lit up as if he had just won season tickets for a Quidditch team (Remus could not recall who he was supporting this year). The werewolf stopped writing, but kept his eyes on his book.

“I say we try going west this time, past the centaurs,” Sirius continued.

“I feel like Franz will tell Dumbledore if he sees us again,” James replied with a childish pout. “Maybe if we go around? We’d be pretty close to the border, but we can keep Moony in check.”

At the mention of his nickname, Sirius seemed to suddenly remember that Remus was in the room. “You’re being awful quiet, Moony,” Sirius said, turning to the werewolf.

“I need to finish this,” Remus said, giving Sirius a small smile. “But I will be up for whatever the plan is, as long as we don’t leave the forest.”

“Fine Moony, we’ll go plot elsewhere,” James said and got up. “Pads, let’s get out of here before Moony realizes he gave us free reign over the full,” he told Sirius with a big grin. As if lifted by invisible strings, the raven-haired boy rose up instantly.

“Pete?” Sirius called out when he noticed that Peter wasn’t following the other two boys.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” he called back, “Dorm?”

“Yeah,” James said after some whispering with Sirius.

Once they were gone, Peter turned to Remus. “The bright side to the DADA curse is that we won’t have to worry about him next year!” Peter’s tone was kind and cheerful, but Remus could see the pity in his eyes. He had noticed. Of course he had. James might be the most protective of them, but Peter had always been the most perceptive.

“Please don’t tell them,” Remus found himself uttering before he could stop himself or think of a better way to say it.

“What, that Parkinson hates you?” Peter asked innocently.

If he were not Remus Lupin, Remus would have flinched. “Yeah. You know how they can get.”

“They’re going to figure it out sooner or later,” Peter mused, looking at the ceiling, “I swear he winced when Lily told on James for the chalkboard thing. He wanted to give you detention so badly!”

Remus didn’t respond. Instead, with a small sigh, he returned to his homework. Professor Parkinson had given the assignment on purpose, to punish Remus. He was counting on him not managing and either failing or getting a very poor grade. The brown-haired boy was determined to prove the daft bastard wrong.

Peter gave Remus’ shoulder a quick squeeze and left to meet the other two boys in the dormitory.

~

“Try not to copy so much,” Parkinson snarled as he handed Remus’ parchment back to him. It had a big ‘D’ written on top. So thick it looked like it had been written with a brush and not a quill. “All except one of your references was the same as Potter’s. Do your own research!”

“But he did!” James piped up, staring down at his parchment which said ‘O’.

“You expect me to believe that in the impressive Hogwarts library, you all managed to find the exact same books?”

“We were in the library together is all,” James said with a shrug. He didn’t understand what the big deal was, he had not copied Remus word-for-word, he had only read the chapters Remus had marked.

“You don’t have to defend him, Mr. Potter,” Parkinson said softly, “I know he wasn’t even in the castle this weekend, let alone the library.” He turned back to Remus with an expression of distaste. “Sick brother, was it? Or mother?”

Remus said nothing. He kept looking at his desk but he knew his friends could see his fists clenching. He wondered what he would tell them if they asked about it.

“I apologize, Professor,” he said quietly, hoping to placate Parkinson so this ordeal could be over.

“I’m sure you _feel_ sorry,” Parkinson drawled and walked away.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” James blurted as soon as Parkinson was out of earshot. “Don’t all Professors know about you? You would never cheat!”

Peter gave Remus a sad look. The werewolf gave a twitchy smile to him in response. ‘I’m sorry’ Peter was saying wordlessly.

“Don’t worry about that git,” Frank said from the desk above them, and the Marauders turned to him. “I think he just hates that you know more than he does! Remember how you told me he was wrong about Boggarts?”

Remus smiled and his cheeks colored slightly. He still wasn’t fully over his attraction to Frank, and his words, surprisingly, did make him feel better, even though he knew the real reason behind Parkinson’s hate.

“Does Parkinson not like you, Moony?” James asked, but before anybody could answer, the class started.

“Today,” Parkinson said, “We talk about protection spells from physical attacks.”

Remus thanked whatever gods were watching over him that by the time the lecture was over, the other boys seemed distracted enough not to ask him about Parkinson.

Or so he had thought.

That night James found him in the library, re-writing his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, trying to use as many obscure books as possible to annoy Parkinson. In his weakened state, he didn’t hear the other boy until James sighed loudly.

When he looked up, James was making an annoyed face at him.

“What?” he asked, trying to remember if he had promised to do something or be somewhere. Did they have a prank tonight? He didn’t think so. Was it a preparation thing, should he be brewing a potion or practicing his sticking charms?

“Here, I’ll help,” James said, breaking Remus’ train of thought. He flopped onto the chair next to Remus and grabbed one of the unopened books on the desk.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked as James flipped through the pages to find the relevant chapter.

James’ lips thinned and Remus was even more confused than before. That wasn’t like James at all. Or Sirius, for that matter. Their irritation, anger, happiness – whatever it was – was always worn on their sleeves. They didn’t _do_ subtle expressions. That was Remus and Peter. James and Sirius exploded and made sure that everybody in the room felt exactly how they were feeling.

He grabbed a quill and started taking notes. After writing two words, he paused. “You’re working on the essay, right?” he asked.

Remus nodded. He didn’t remember telling anyone but his friends knew how much he cared about his grades so it would be a logical conclusion to come to.

“I’m helping,” James said curtly and Remus wondered who he was annoyed with. Maybe he’d come here to distract himself.

“Did you and Padfoot have a fight?” he asked.

James put his quill down. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just… You didn’t even want to do _your_ homework, now you’re helping me re-do mine?”

“Parkinson’s a knobhead.”

 _Ah. So he noticed_.

Remus appreciated that James was angry with Parkinson for his sake. A small smile appeared on his lips. “Generally speaking we pull pranks on knobheads, not do more work for them,” Remus said light-heartedly, trying to lift the mood.

“Yes, well,” James said, “That will come too, in time.”

“Since when does James Fleamont Potter wait to prank someone he doesn’t like?” Remus chuckled, and went back to organizing his notes before picking up a new book. James had a way of relaxing him unlike anybody else, even Peter.

“I have to wait so Padfoot doesn’t know,” James said absent-mindedly, but his voice was too casual to be natural.

“Are you going to put a sticking charm on Padfoot’s hand and dare him to poke Parkinson?” Remus asked, hoping the answer was ‘yes’ but knowing that it would not be.

James gave him a quick glance, and then went back to writing.

“You know how he is,” he said and Remus saw that he was writing down dates for registration acts from the book in front of him as he did so. He was one of those people who could write something completely different while conversing. Remus had never managed that. He always ended up writing what he was saying.

“If he understands what’s going on, he will go on a rampage,” James continued.

“Mmm,” Remus said, not agreeing completely but not knowing what else to say. Who knew if he would?

Sirius was unpredictable with everything except the intensity of his rage. If he _did_ get angry, he would destroy everything in his path as he burned. He was fierce when one of the Marauders was messed with. That said, often he would not even register it when one of them was upset.

It had taken him two weeks to realize that a Slytherin was messing with Peter’s meals at every dinner. He had finally caught the bloke in the act by chance and had hexed him so badly that he hadn’t shown up to class for a week. 

Another time, James had been pushed off of his broom during practice maliciously and Sirius had simply told him to grow some balls instead of attacking the other student.

Perhaps Sirius would be furious. Perhaps he would not care.

_Who knows, with that boy?_

~

The first time Remus Lupin got asked on a date officially was underwhelming and not at all the exciting event it could have been. A fellow fifth year from Hufflepuff asked if he could go out with her so her _friend_ could have a better shot at landing a date with James or Sirius. Arrange a double-date. The werewolf didn’t know who should be more insulted: himself for the blatant offer to be used to get to his friends, or his friends since apparently for these girls they were completely interchangeable.

“Piss off,” he muttered, and went back to working on his essay, making a point not to look up to see the girl’s reaction. She huffed and started stomping away.

She was almost out of ear-shot when Remus heard her run into the rest of the Marauders.

“Hi James!” she said, voice high-pitched. Remus groaned in disgust internally.

“Oh, hi,” he responded, not sounding interested in the least. Remus heard a few steps before she spoke again.

“I was talking to Remus,” she said, and the steps stopped. She had a way of getting attention, Remus would give her that. “He rejected me,” she said and he could hear the deep, fake frown on her face.

“Did he, now?” Sirius said, amused.

“Always had good taste, that man,” Peter said, presumably to James who chuckled back.

She must have been left speechless because Remus did not hear anything more until his friends joined him.

“Getting hounded by birds, eh Remus?” Sirius said, eyes shining with laughter as he looked at him.

Remus shrugged. “She wanted to go to Hogsmeade,” he said, not bothering to mention the rest. He didn’t need to be embarrassed by pointing out to them that nobody would ask him out except for a chance with the two of them. Let them think she really wanted him.

“Told her that you are gay, then?” James asked absent-mindedly, looking through his bag for a book.

Remus had not realized that they had thought of him that way until James said those words. It was true and yes they had known about his crush on Frank, but somehow Remus’ brain had not added two and two together until then.

 _I guess I am,_ he thought. Not knowing where he got the courage or humor from, he shot back at James: “She was devastated, she was.”

James seemed surprised as well. His eyebrows shot up and he gave Remus an amused grin and nod, approving of the joke. It was the kind of joke Sirius and James would make.

“Not as devastated as Minnie was when I told her my heart belongs to Albus,” Sirius said gravely, as if to prove Remus’ thoughts.

“Speaking of love,” Peter cut in, ignoring Sirius’ dramatic acting out of being heartbroken, “I have a brilliant idea for a prank. Or rather, Jon did and told me about it. We should definitely do it.” Jon was Peter’s squib friend who he hung out with during the summers. Peter waited for one of his friends to ask further. They didn’t. With a small frown, he continued, trying not to sound disappointed. “On Valentine’s, they sent their teacher a fake love letter from another one. Wouldn’t it be brilliant if we sent one from, say, Dumbledore to McGonagall?”

Finally James looked up at him, mouth parted into a small ‘o’ in interest. Remus could practically see Peter beaming.

“That _does_ sound fun, actually,” James said, “But I have a better idea for the people. Hackercy—” He paused for dramatic effect. Professor Hackercy was their temporary Arithmancy professor while Vector was on sabbatical and looked older than Dumbledore by at least a decade. “And McGonagall.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, and Remus tried not to think about how much he enjoyed the sound or the sparkle in the raven-haired boy’s mischievous eyes. “ _Wicked_ ,” he said, nodding in approval.

They started brainstorming potential letters on a parchment during History of Magic. They had decided that they would send multiple letters leading up to Valentine’s, and watch McGonagall’s face as the letters arrived night after night, with the grand finale on the special day.

Remus told himself there was no reason he kept the parchment, when he put it in his trunk later that evening. But when he would find it, years later, he would know that it had been because there was quite a lot of Sirius’ writing in it. He had wanted to keep a piece of Sirius.

The chicken scratches all across the parchment made him smile when he traced his fingers over them. He wouldn’t find out until sixth year why Sirius’ handwriting was as abysmal as it was. As they passed notes back and forth, it seemed endearing to him. A chink in the armor of Perfect Sirius Black who always knew when to curtsey, how much was an appropriate tip, when it was polite to get up from a table, and many other small signs of etiquette. It wasn’t that Remus’ handwriting was much better, he just liked that Sirius did not have perfect handwriting, at the time.

 

Sirius:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

My transfiguring queen,

Oh how I love you!

 

Sirius:

I saw you teaching first years

the other day; mice into cups.

You transfigure my pecker into wood.

 

Peter:

EW Padfoot!

 

James:

NO DRAWINGS!

 

(Right)

Remus:

Dearest Minerva,

Would you do me the honour

of going to Hogsmeade with me?

Sincerely,

Robert Hackercy

  
James:

HOW ABOUT **NO** MOONY?

 

Remus:

You suggest something then!

 

James:

‘SUP BABE,

LET’S GO GET DRUNK.

 

Remus:

What?

 

James:  
HE’S AMERICAN!

 

Remus:

He’s Canadian.

 

James:

SAME THING.

 

Remus:

That’s like saying

I’m English.

(pause)

James, tell me you

know that I’m not.

 

James:

OF COURSE

 

Sirius:

Get back on topic.

 

Remus:

Your handwriting is

atrocious.

 

Sirius:

As is your Welsh face.

 

(Left)

Peter:

Dear Minerva,

Care to meet me by

the greenhouses tonight?

Robbie

 

—>

James:

TOO FORMAL

 

Peter:

Have to start

realistic, don’t we?

 

Sirius:

Wormy has a point

 

James:

WHAT? CAN’T

READ.

 

Sirius:

Wormy has a point

(supposed to be excellent handwriting, ignore my horrible cursive please)

 

Remus:

Oh wow, you can write.

 

James:  
I WANT IT BACK.

 ~~HOURS~~ DAYS OF

MY LIFE SQUINTING,

TRYING TO DECIPHER

YOUR HANDWRITING.

ALL ALONG, YOU

COULD WRITE!

 

Sirius:

Relax.

 

James:

 **NO**. WRITE

NORMAL. I KNOW

YOU CAN, NOW.

 

(Left)

Remus:

Dear Minerva,

You look lovely today.

Robert

 

Sirius:

That works.

 

James:

PADFOOT. ENGLISH.

 

Sirius:

At least you know where

I’m from.

 

James:

NOW YOU’RE

WRITING WORSE

ON PURPOSE!

 

Sirius:

Woof.

 

The Valentine’s Day prank, when eventually executed, went swimmingly. In the week leading up to Valentine’s they had watched McGonagall almost spit out her pumpkin juice at every dinner. Poor Professor Hackercy, oblivious to the reason behind her spluttering and blushing at him, had always given her a confused, kind smile in return.

Valentine’s fell on a Saturday and the school had taken the opportunity to make an event out of it, decorating the Great Hall for a ‘Valentine’s Feast’, complete with charmed cupids flying around and boxes of chocolate for each student. Their final letter arrived in the form of a Howler. As soon as they saw Hackercy and McGonagall standing next to each other, Peter nudged his owl to go ahead and deliver it.

“WHY WON’T YOU ACCEPT MY ADVANCES?” the Howler shouted, sounding uncannily like Hackercy. _Thank you Sirius for not giving up after listening to over a dozen Howlers at the shack_.

What followed was an expected yet still shocking diatribe from McGonagall, and Hackercy staring at her with wide eyes, confused beyond help. The Marauders had told each other to not laugh so they would not be suspected, but it was a lost cause, they were in tears from laughter from McGonagall’s first word.

~

“Why won’t you accept _my_ advances, Moony?” Sirius breathed while nibbling on the werewolf’s jaw.

Remus chuckled, cupping Sirius’ cheek and tilting it up so their lips brushed against each other. “I thought I was,” he whispered back. They had silencing charms on but the quietness of the dormitory made them keep their voices down instinctively.

Remus waited for the bark Sirius called a laugh to come, but it didn’t. Instead, Sirius was looking at him pensively.

“What?” he asked, “What is it?”

“We never— You know…” The raven-haired boy gestured in the general direction of Remus’ body. The werewolf misunderstood and thought he was pointing at his crotch.

“We wank each other all the time,” he said slowly, confused.

“But your clothes are always on,” Sirius complained.

“You sound like a child,” Remus laughed, but it was forced. Of course he never took his clothes off, who wants to show their scarred body to their casual snog who they also happened to be in love with?

“I want to—” Sirius started, lifting Remus’ shirt an inch before the other boy caught his hand in a painful grip.

“No.”

“Why not, Moony?” His pout disappeared as he decided to go for another tactic. “They don’t call it ‘shirt-lifter’ for nothing. Let me lift your shirt.” Another pause. “The others do.”

Even as an adult Remus would never be able to explain what he did next, or why he felt the all-encompassing fury as he did so. He wrote it off in his mind as an effect of the full moon’s approach but he knew deep down the reason must have been different.

He threw Sirius off of his bed. He wasn’t even sure which body part he had used to shove his friend.

“Oi! What the hell?” Sirius complained, on the bed again already within a few seconds.

“Go to somebody who wants to take their shirt off,” the werewolf snarled and turned to his side, closing his eyes.

Sirius’ hand touched his shoulder and he waited for either one of the two possibilities. One: Sirius would apologize and charm him into another session as he did whenever he upset Remus or Remus wasn’t in the mood for a different reason. Two: Sirius would snap at him and say that his flavor-of-the-month, whoever it was, was a better time anyway.

Instead, Sirius got off the bed quietly and went to his own without a word.

Remus felt his stomach turn. He hated Sirius being silent. He was an exploding sun, a thundering sky; he had to be bright and loud and lively. A brooding Sirius was never a good thing.

With a deep sigh, the light-brown haired boy got inside Sirius’ covers, and held him, pushing his stomach onto Sirius’ back. The raven-haired boy, stubborn as ever, pretended not to notice even as his body relaxed into the touch.

“I just can’t, I’m sorry,” Remus whispered and kissed Sirius’ neck. He ran his hand down Sirius’ torso and put it inside his pants. Within ten seconds, it seemed that the other boy had forgiven him, judging by the noises of appreciation.


	8. Loaded Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifth year progresses as Sirius and Remus get closer, Parkinson keeps hating Remus and Lily calls James an arrogant toerag. (Snape's Worst Memory, taking almost word-by-word from the book)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have added some text to the previous chapter, noticing that it fit better there than here. It starts at "Remus thanked whatever gods were watching over him that by the time the lecture was over, the other boys seemed distracted enough not to ask him about Parkinson." if you are interested in reading it. It's just a short Remus-James scene.
> 
> Furthermore, while all this is happening, Remus had a short almost-relationship which I posted separately here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9589346 It was too off-topic to include here, but is still an important part of Remus' story to me, and will come into play in the later chapters. Definitely not necessary reading to continue this story, but I wanted to let you know.

**_Love is more like a loaded gun_ **

**_Than a safety net_ **

**_To fall back on_ **

**_Like walking around with a ticking bomb_ **

**_And just counting down_ **

**_To the explosion_ **

_Explosion - Seafret_

 

Being in a friends-with-benefits situation had turned out better for him than Remus ever would have guessed. In retrospect, Remus would categorize it differently, say that they had been in love from the beginning. But at the time it simply felt good to touch and feel the other, to laugh with their friends during the day and kiss at night: No strings attached.

He enjoyed the fact that he was allowed to randomly give Sirius’ ass a playful spank before a class only to get a grin in return (and potentially sweet payback later), while also having the freedom to spend Hogsmeade without his friends if he wanted. He had seen Peter when he had a girlfriend and it seemed like dating required being attached at the hip, which did not sound pleasant at all.

Remus would go on a few dates here and there during his time not taken by the Marauders or Sirius. Kissing others wasn’t quite as good as kissing Sirius, but there always was that thrill when somebody first caught his attention, which he enjoyed.

Every so often, Sirius would object to his interest in another. Remus would easily let it go as soon as that happened. It seemed that Sirius wanted Remus to remain casual with _anyone,_ not just Sirius himself. Either to keep their arrangement going or because he didn’t believe in relationships and wanted to protect his friend. The werewolf wasn’t sure. Either way it didn’t pain him to drop whoever else he may be interested in at the moment because none of them were as attractive to him as Sirius and most definitely not worth upsetting the raven-haired boy over.

The only problem was that without anybody else to distract him for long his feelings for Sirius, instead of going away, were getting stronger.

He wasn’t sure when the shift had happened exactly, but it seemed that at some point they had become a non-romantic couple of sorts. They always sat next to each other. They asked for each other’s opinions when discussing matters with others. It wasn’t the same as with James - Sirius and James were brothers - it was more similar to, Remus had to admit, a couple. Seeing as how they were in no way romantically involved (or so Remus kept telling himself), it was a strange predicament. It was an easy rhythm to fall into, though.

~

Now that they spent more time together than ever before, the werewolf started to get the raven-haired boy better than ever. He hadn’t realized how much Sirius and James would share only with each other until he was inexplicably thrown into the mix. Not to the James side of course, but the Sirius side of things.

These days, when Peter went off on a date or served detention without them, James and Sirius would ask Remus to join them when they went out to the pitch or a window sill to smoke. Remus, before, had always imagined they got up to pranks-that-Prefects-shouldn’t-know or simply joked around during those times. He was surprised to find that the two boys, often, used this time either to sit quietly or talk about serious matter. He didn’t know which one shocked him more. The two boys actually shutting up or talking about emotions.

It was on such a night that Remus came to see Sirius and Regulus in a whole new light. Peter was serving a detention he had convinced a professor to give to him instead of Remus who had been the culprit, and they were on a tower, smoking. Remus thought it was going to be a Quiet Night until James sighed deeply.

It was a Lily Night, then.

“A red-head on your mind, Potter?” Remus joked. He had learned the trend by now: A few jokes from one of the boys, then the Talk began.

But, to his surprise, James just raised an eyebrow at him and then turned back to face outside.

 _I need to learn to shut up_ , Remus thought to himself. Obviously he had not quite figured out the silent communication between the two boys. He probably never would. He hated himself just a little to want to be part of it. It wasn’t that he was jealous - they were brothers, and he surely did not want to be Sirius’ brother - but sharing intimate moments like this with them felt awkward without joining in. Like he was an intruder.

Sirius shot Remus a quick glance before telling James “I’m not going to talk about it.”

James shrugged. “You’re the one who invited him.”

“That’s not why,” Sirius said with a sigh. After a snort from James, he added: “Well, not entirely.”

“Rubbish. I know you want to talk about it,” James replied, then turned to tell Remus something. Before he could, Sirius started talking.

“I just don’t understand why,” he said quietly. He sounded so calm and distant that Remus had difficulty tying the sound to his vibrant friend. It was alien, this cold, hurt voice coming from the bubbly Sirius Black.

“There’s never a good reason,” James said.

“There’s always a reason,” Sirius said angrily, but even Remus could tell that the venom was not at James.

“He’ll… He’ll come around,” James said, then took a long drag of his cigarette. He only smoked when Sirius did, but seemed to enjoy filling his lungs with it as if he were an old addict.

“How? Who will show him any better?” Sirius said, glaring at the yard below them as if it had offended him somehow.

“You could still talk to him,” James started, but then stopped his train of thought when Sirius glared at him. “He’s smart. He’ll figure it out.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“You know he’s not. Weren’t you bragging about his grades to me just the other week?”

 _Interesting,_ Remus thought, having figured out by now that the subject was Regulus, _I never would have thought Sirius would know about Regulus’ grades, let alone brag about them._

“He’s book-smart,” Sirius all but growled, “But doesn’t understand that he can be his own person. He’d cut his right arm off if Orion told him it would make his spellwork improve.”

James’ eyelids narrowed as he considered this. “Is he left-handed or right-handed?”

Sirius let out a chuckle. “Really?” A small sigh. “Left-handed, although I don’t understand why you asked.”

“Your speech about him wouldn’t make sense without me knowing. So you are saying he would cut his _non-_ wand arm off for Orion, not his wand arm. That’s less idiotic than thinking you can cut-off your arm that _hold_ a wand and become a better caster.”

“I thought I was talking to James Potter, not—” Sirius froze, and then turned around to look at Remus. He had forgotten that he was there, probably.

“We’re talking about Regulus—” he started, but Remus cut him off.

“I know.”

Sirius nodded. “Well… He…” He sighed. He looked uncomfortable but not in the way that most people do. He wasn’t embarrassed and he wasn’t at a loss for words (Sirius Black never was). It looked more like he was trying to spare Remus’ - or somebody else’s - feelings. “He’s hanging out with Mulciber and the rest.”

Remus wondered if there was a good answer to that. Probably wasn’t.

Predictably, the boys fell silent for several minutes. When they spoke again, the subject was about how making Marlene’s ears grow twice the size as a prank wouldn’t be funny because really, who would notice?

The werewolf was grateful that he got to see more layers of Sirius, even if it was a few sentences at a time. That night and a few other random comments had shown him how deep and complex Sirius and Regulus’ relationship was.

He had always known that none of them were as superficial as most people made them out to be (He had tried to explain this to Lily Evans several times), but Sirius had always been the most closed-off of all of them. He knew there were layers underneath the surface but he couldn’t get to them, not really. Peter and James’ exterior was as hard as any other teenage boy’s: They weren’t open about their emotions and didn’t dwell long on more serious matters but they didn’t actively hide things. Remus himself actively hid things but, well, being himself meant that he was privy to all information about him. But Sirius… Sirius avoided any subject matter about himself of any substance with fervor. At least to anybody that wasn’t James.

Upsetting letters from his family, bad fight with his brother or girlfriend,… Whatever happened to Sirius, Peter and Remus would never know if James didn’t drop hints such as “Let’s pull a prank tonight, Sirius and Marlene had a fight”. The raven-haired Black boy was always grinning and upbeat, ready for adventure. He wanted to be associated with happiness and wildness, Remus knew. Sirius wanted to be the boy who would go skinny dipping in October in Scotland and come out of the lake with a huge grin. The boy who would stay up all night running with a werewolf and still spend the next day actively pranking or playing Quidditch with a smile on his face. Never tired, never sad, never not perfect.

Remus wondered how much of it was forced by his upbringing (James had said a few times that Sirius’ parents were very demanding and obsessed with perception), and how much of it was the natural charisma that the boy oozed. Maybe it was not _possible_ to look sad or not-charming when you were Sirius Black. At most he managed to look pissed off, his frown somehow shaping his aristocratic face into a handsomely rough expression.

~

Peter, on the other hand, was always ready to talk about things. He had a strangely close relationship with his mother which the other boys teased him about. The mother and son would owl constantly and the Marauders had decided that Mrs. Pettigrew had always wanted a girl and was trying to make Peter into one. They were kidding, of course, but there was truth to it as well. No other teenage boy would start some conversations that Peter did.

Shortly after their friends found out about Sirius and Remus (which did not take long as they weren’t going to great lengths to hide it), Peter came up to talk to Remus about it.

“You and Padfoot,” he started as soon as he sat down next to Remus in the strangely empty common room.

Remus raised an eyebrow. He must have practiced this speech. “What about us?”

“I don’t know. It just seems…” Peter’s voice trailed off. Maybe this was not a rehearsed speech after all.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he said after a long pause, with a tint of red on his cheeks.

“Why would it?” Remus asked, genuinely curious. Why on earth would sex with the officially most eligible bachelor in school (according to a poll started secretly by James, which he later denied) bother him?

“He’s out with Merlin now, isn’t he?”

Remus snorted. “Who names their kid  _Merlin_?”

“High expectations, I suppose,” Peter mused. Then he was snapped out of the distraction. “And it doesn’t bother you that he’s out with him?”

“Sirius always has dates on Thursdays. It’s sort of a thing, for him,” Remus said slowly, trying to figure out what part is supposed to bother him, exactly. They would most likely sleep together the next day anyway.

Peter frowned, and was looking at him with a puzzled expression. “But Remus, aren’t you two together?”

It was Remus’ turn to be confused. He blinked, a few times. “I never thought about it,” he lied. The truth was that he had of course daydreamed about it countless times but what they had right now was separate from that. They just slept together and sometimes snuck off to Hogsmeade just the two of them and— 

Merlin,  **are**  we?

“Remus Lupin,” Peter gasped, eyebrows almost fading into his blond bangs, “What is wrong with you? When have you ever done anything without thinking about it?”

When indeed?

“I suppose we are… Sort of? I mean, we spend a lot of time together and we— er — do things together.” He paused, lost in thought. “But it’s not a  _normal_  relationship.”

“So what, you’re just doing this until one of you gets a girlfriend? Helping each other out in times of need?” Peter didn’t sound convinced.

“Why are we talking about this?” Remus sighed, and reached out for his book so he could begin reading again.

“I want you to be happy, Moony,” Peter said softly, “And I feel like this won’t make you happy.”

“You don’t want me and Sirius to…” Remus started, then paused, rethinking his wording. “If it’s bothering you that we’re doing it in the dormitory—”

“I see how you look at him,” Peter cut him off and although his voice was quiet, the weight of his words drowned Remus’.

“I just think,” Peter said, unsure, but then suddenly found his Gryffindor courage. “I just think you should tell him, is all. Padfoot might be a lot of things, but he would never want to break your heart.”

How did Peter know him so well? Then again, Peter knew all of them well. They joked that James was the mother hen of the group but they all knew it was Peter. Peter was the one who would pass a chocolate frog discreetly to Remus before Defense Against the Dark Arts because he knew what was coming. Peter was the one who threw Sirius a surprise party for no reason whatsoever (or so he claimed) after a particularly nasty letter from the Black family that even James hadn’t known about. Peter had simply sensed the boy’s slight change in attitude, and intervened.

And Peter was here now, telling Remus things he hadn’t even admitted to himself.

“I know he doesn’t love me,” Remus found himself saying. It was so easy to speak to Peter. He would never make crude jokes about what a girl’s blouse he was being. Not when it mattered.

“Yes, well,” Peter said, nodding, “You can see why this is a terrible idea if he doesn’t know then, don’t you?”

“As long as I know what I am getting…” Remus didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“Fine, you don’t care if he pulls random blokes or girls. Fine. But what about when he finds someone special? When he falls for someone and leaves you for them?”

Remus had to admit, he had not thought of that. Sirius was… Sirius. The thought of him lovesick, going after someone like James with Lily was comical.

And yet, it was also logical. Even the baddest of bad boys got married, even if they got divorced afterwards. It was far from impossible that Sirius would one day have a serious relationship. He felt as if he had swallowed a brick.

“Then… Then I will wish him happiness.”

Peter shook his head and sighed, reminding Remus of his mother. “All I’m saying,” he said, giving Remus’ shoulder a quick squeeze, “Is that you should tell him.”

Just like he had known how to start the conversation, Peter also knew when to end it. He took out some cards from his pocket and asked, with a grin, “Snap? Loser gets snacks from the kitchens.”

~

Of course, as these things go - as soon as they had had that conversation, Remus’ mind started to go on overdrive, looking for any sign that Sirius may or may not be interested in a real relationship with him. He didn’t write a list like Marlene and Lily had made when trying to decide whether or not Marlene should break up with Sirius (that had been an interesting conversation to be present for). However, he did consider several thoughts mentally whenever his mind drifted to thoughts of Sirius. That happened more often than he would have liked to admit.

He already knows that I am a werewolf, he thought, counting this as a positive thing. He didn’t have to lie to Sirius about his lycanthropy and forget being put off by him, the daft bugger had gone and become an Animagus to help him.

 _We are compatible in bed,_ he thought as he watched Sirius half-heartedly kiss Cecile on the corner of her mouth. None of _their_ kisses was ever light-hearted, even the quick ones. In fact, Sirius looked bored most of the time he kissed other people. Either to look cool or because he really was. _Another point for Remus_ _Lupin._

Right after Sirius’ kiss, Peter slapped Sirius’ neck and started running away, causing the taller boy to take Cecile off of his lap and run after him in search of revenge. In less than a minute Sirius had somehow managed to lock his and Peter’s arms while facing opposite ways, and was now carrying the poor boy on his back like a (screaming) backpack, crouching as he walked to keep Peter’s feet off the ground.

“Let me down you plonker!” Peter was wailing.

“Apologize, you worm!”

“I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry! Let me down!”

“No.”

As the boys fought, Remus watched them, smiling. There definitely be no dull moment in his life as long as Sirius was in it. The tall boy might not be the type to plan elaborate dates but honestly who needed that when they were _friends_? And not the kind where couples say they are, but would never actually be best friends if they also didn’t have he hots for each other. Frank and Alice was one of those couples. They clearly loved each other and said they were each other’s best friend but realistically Frank liked riding Hippogriffs and Thestrals, whatever four legged creature would let him on and Herbology while Alice was borderline-obsessed with Quidditch and was scared to even approach the Unicorn they had seen in class. No, those two would not be best friends if they weren’t in love.

But Sirius and Remus… They would be. They _were_. The Marauders, although they had started as a friendship of convenience, had grown into four really good friends who enjoyed each other’s company thoroughly. Remus wouldn’t hesitate to go on a long vacation with any of them, not doubting that he would enjoy himself.

 _We would get along really well and have fun all the time,_ he thought, another mental point for having a relationship.

 _What else does one need in a relationship?_ he asked himself genuinely. He tried to think of good and bad relationships he had seen. He thought of common reasons why he had seen his friends, including Sirius, break up.

Not caring was high on the list. Running out of steam or not having cared at all in the first place, as was the case of most of James and Sirius’ flings. Once Remus had seen Sirius break up with a girl because she wanted to go to Hogsmeade one hour later than planned. Sirius had told her he wanted to go at ten, and if she could not make it, he would go without. She had huffed and asked if he did not want to walk there with her girlfriend. He had looked at her through his barely-open eyes and said, in a bored drawl, “If I had one, I would, I suppose.” He had walked off after and had not spoken to her after. Obviously he had not cared about her at all.

But Sirius cared about Remus. Remus was certain. They were all mean sometimes (Remus had locked James in a cupboard for an hour just the other day for being annoying) but when it mattered they would do anything for each other. The Animagus gesture, as grand as it was, was but one of the things they had done and would do for each other. From helping one of them pull someone to consoling them after a parent’s death or illness, they supported each other constantly. Sometimes with a quiet smoke on a tower, sometimes with a heart-felt hug and ignoring the wetness on their shirts.

And, as much as Remus hated to admit it, he also knew that Sirius cared about him in a particular way because of his condition. Sirius was almost always the first one to come to the hospital wing as soon as they were allowed, and last to leave. He wouldn’t go out of his way to fret over Remus at the dormitory like Peter had when Remus and James had caught the flu last year, but he would make sure Remus was cared for.

 _Negatives, Lupin,_ he told himself, _Think of negatives, not why you’re stupid over him. That’s self-explanatory, the whole bloody school is in love with him._

Distracted by his daydreaming, Remus saw the first answer to his question about negatives when he looked and saw that Sirius and Peter were really fighting now. From the looks of it, Sirius must have said something nasty to Peter because the blond was blushing and looking away. Might be something about his weight, that’s usually what Sirius went for if he wanted to hurt Peter.

 _He does like hurting people_ , he thought, but then corrected himself. _He can’t help it, thought. At least I don’t think so. It seems more like a compulsion. If he feels annoyed, he will lash out. There is no blow too low for Sirius Black._

Remus had once heard Sirius tell a first year who had introduced himself as Lord Gazeth Williams, with mock-concern, if he would rather Sirius kill him immediately so he no longer had to live with that name. The poor sheltered boy’s eyes had grown as wide as saucers and tears had welled up. Another time, Sirius had told a Prefect who was taking points after having caught him red-handed that her stuck-up attitude was why her brother killed himself. ‘Poor taste’ and ‘tactless’ didn’t begin to cover how cruel Sirius could be given even the smallest reason to be mean.

 _He_ ** _is_** _rather cruel sometimes,_ Remus mused, _And all couples fight. He would shred me to pieces if we did. Probably go on about what a skinny nerd I am and how I don’t deserve somebody as handsome as him. He goes for whatever people are insecure about, after all…_

Then again, Remus had thick skin. He could handle fighting with Sirius. If he had to prove it (and he did not feel that he did), one need only look at how calmly he was handling Parkinson.

Parkinson had taken every opportunity to make Remus’ life as miserable as he could. He had even given a Ravenclaw that Remus was close with for a while, Kelsey, an assignment on werewolves hoping surely that Remus would be found out.

Sirius also required a _lot_ of attention. He had always been one to seek the spotlight but hanging around him more often had made Remus realize how Sirius was incapable of spending even minutes without drawing all eyes onto himself. Even when Sirius and James were hanging out, they would talk over each other and Sirius would make sure he was talking most of the time. If James dared get distracted for longer than a few moments, Sirius would grab his attention back by either casting a harmless (but often annoying) spell on James or urging him to go do something else (“Come on Prongs, let’s go hex that third year over there!”).

~

Less than half an hour after he had thought of Parkinson’s attitude towards him, the universe felt the need to reiterate his situation. They had Defense Against the Dark Arts after this free period and he braced himself for another awful class. He had not been ready for what came that day, though. Apparently Parkinson had decided to bring his attempts up a notch. He had not gotten the result he wanted with Kelsey, so now it was his classmates, apparently.

They were studying werewolves. Not just a single class like the curriculum called for, either. He assigned extra reading on them. And brought props.

“This here, you see,” Parkinson said, showing a long blade that was crooked at the end on purpose. It looked almost like a hook, “Was one of the favored methods of dealing with werewolves in the late 17th century.”

He swung it around a few times as most of the class watched with intent, trying to figure out what was different about this weapon. James and Peter were looking away in pretend boredom. Sirius had a small frown on his face, but did not seem surprised. Remus wondered if Sirius already knew about Solveklings.

“Can anybody tell me what this is called?” he asked, his smile suggesting that he did not expect anybody to know. It _was_ sort of obscure, Remus thought, but this class was shared with Ravenclaws so there was every chance that one of them had read about it.

“Solvekling,” Sirius said softly, looking at the blade and not Parkinson.

“Mr. Black, of course you would know,” Parkinson said happily, nodding, “Solvekling indeed. The name comes from Danish as the Danes were the first to use silver in this particular shape.” He paused for what Remus assumed was dramatic effect, and then made a gesture with the blade as if he was hooking it into something in front of him, around chest-height. Sirius looked away. “They would use the tilted tips to hook into the werewolf - often under their armpits - to disable them before they got a chance to attack.”

“How did they get close enough to do that?” Marlene gasped, “Wouldn’t it be too risky? You could get bitten if you are that close!”

“Werewolves cannot turn others unless it’s full moon,” Parkinson said slowly, looking around the room as people took notes.

Now Sirius was stretching in his seat, looking uncomfortable. He started writing notes to James and the two proceeded to ignore the lecture completely after that point.

“Why would you need to incapacitate a werewolf if it’s not the full moon?” Lily asked, looking truly confused, staring at the professor with her eyebrows furrowed.

Parkinson laughed good-naturedly. Remus, while gritting his teeth, accidentally caught his tongue and could now taste blood in his mouth. Parkinson acting kind to others made it worse, somehow.

“I know you are muggle-born, Miss Evans, but surely even in muggle myths werewolves’ danger is clear?” he said with not a hint of malice in his voice. Remus wondered if it would be too suspicious if he pretended to be ill and asked to be excused. A few days ago, on the last full moon his cover story had been being sick so perhaps people would believe it.

“When they are in their wolf form, certainly,” Lily agreed, ignoring the veiled condescension about her heritage. Parkinson did not sound like he had meant to offend, after all. “But what can they do in their human form?”

“Excellent question. I will give everybody ten minutes to read pages 394 and 395, and the best answer to Miss Evans’ question gets forty house points!”

Sirius and James both opened their books but were flipping their pages of 394, bending the corners and making faces at each other. Peter had a piece of parchment on his book and was pretending to read but Remus saw him drawing random doodles instead. Defense Against he Dark Arts was one of the few subjects his friends were actually interested in, and he knew that they were acting as they were for Remus. They were looking disinterested on purpose, because the lecture was about werewolves.

“Time’s up!” Parkinson said with a clap, after what must have been ten minutes, although Remus was so lost in thought it could have been an hour and he would not have noticed.

A few hands raised up, including Lily’s own, but Parkinson called on a Slytherin, Catherine Lovegood, first.

“Miss Lovegood?”

With a finger over her book, she said quietly “Here it says they are extraordinarily powerful, even when in human form.”

“Correct,” Parkinson agreed, nodding, “There are reports from Aurors of werewolves who, with the slightest effort, could break bones and throw people across fields.”

 _That seems like a bit of an exaggeration, the field part. Maybe ten feet,_ Remus thought and tried not to smile. James looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow and seemed to be hiding a smile himself.

“What else?” Parkinson asked, looking around. “Yes, Mr. Longbottom?”

“I think— It’s not in here but I—” Remus was confused and also mildly curious about what had Frank stuttering as he was. “I believe their— er— injuries still have certain effects even if they are in human form.”

“Indeed! Forty points to Gryffindor! Well done, Mr. Longbottom. That was certainly not an answer I was expecting as it is not in your textbook but I doubt any of your classmates will find a better one.

“Werewolf attacks are brutal regardless of their body’s shape at the time. What you must know is that although it is impossible to be ready for _all_ dark creatures at all times, you must remember the danger so that when it presents itself, you at least recognize it. Never see a werewolf in their human form and think they are no harm.”

Once he was done talking, many students started taking notes, interested in this piece of information that was not in their textbook. Parkinson openly glared at Remus for a few moments and the werewolf saw Sirius catch the look with a confused frown.

“Now, we are at the end of our lecture here,” Parkinson said, looking at his watch, “And I have an assignment for you for next week. Read through the werewolf chapter in your book and the two extra sources I have written on the blackboard. There will be a quiz at the end of next class.”

The werewolf sighed and was grateful that at least it was a quiz that he didn’t have to study for. He was already behind on his Runes and Charms assignments.

Remus saw Snape bring out his calendar and note down the quiz date. Snape was staring at his calendar and book determinedly and Remus’ mind didn’t linger on that fact just then. Snape always wanted good grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Years later, Remus would wonder if that was the moment Snape started suspecting him.

The students packed their things as soon as Parkinson uttered that they were dismissed. Sirius gave Remus a quizzical look but did not comment further on Parkinson’s attitude. Peter patted his back discreetly as they walked out of the room.

After the quiz, Parkinson made a point to tell them that these questions should be revised because they would most likely be in their OWL exam.

~

The OWLs arrive before they knew it and, as promised, Parkinson had made sure to include several questions on werewolves. After the fourth question (‘Which silver weapon is the most effective and which takes the longest to kill the creature?’) Remus found it difficult to feel motivated. It was obvious he was getting a bad grade this year no matter what he did. So he wrote short answers that were correct but would certainly not get him an O.

He glanced at Sirius on the row in front of him and saw that Sirius had written quite a lot in his near-indecipherable handwriting but the fact that he was done before the time was over meant that he also probably had not put much effort into it. Not that he ever did, come to think of it.

“Five more minutes!” Flitwick shouted, indicating they had to wrap up. Remus saw James and Sirius exchange looks and rolled his eyes. Those two could not not-interact for a few hours. They were going to meet each other in five minutes anyway, why were they risking being accused of cheating?

Peter was looking nervous, and Remus felt sorry for him. They always studied together but for this quiz the three other Marauders had not wanted to, and Peter wasn’t a good self-learner. He learned by talking about things, discussing details. Once he had spoken about a subject, it would stay in his mind but just reading never worked for him. Hopefully he remembered enough to get a decent grade.

Remus re-read his answers, making sure he had not put any snarky comments that could give Parkinson reason to get him in trouble.

“Quills down, please!” yelled Professor Flitwick. “That  means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! Accio!”

Shortly after, they were walking down the hallway, heading outside.

“Did you like question ten, Moony?” Sirius asked playfully.

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Loved it,” he replied, “‘Give five signs that identify the werewolf.’ Excellent question.”

“D’you think you managed to get all the signs?” James said with a voice of mock-concern.

“Think I did,” he said, nodding, “One: He’s sitting on my chair. Two: He’s wearing my clothes. Three: His name’s Remus Lupin…”

Sirius and James burst into laughter. Remus glanced at Peter to see why he wasn’t laughing, and could see concern written all over his face. Obviously his mind was still on the quiz.

“I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, and the tufted tail,” he said anxiously, “But I couldn’t think what else—”

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” James said impatiently, “You run round with a werewolf once a month—” His voice was rising as he spoke and Remus cut him off.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake,” Sirius said dismissively, “I’ll be surprised if I don’t get an Outstanding on it at least.”

“Me too,” chirped James, then took out a Snitch from his pocket.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Nicked it,” he said casually, with a shrug. He started playing with the Snitch.

Peter seemed to finally have stopped thinking about the quiz as he was now watching James with great interest.

They sat by the lake and Remus took out his Transfiguration book. It was one of the few subjects he did not have to actively worry about falling behind on because McGonagall made sure to never have a heavy lecture in his absence, but he had to study nevertheless.

Sirius looked bored and was huffing every now and again, surely trying to get attention but Remus did not have time. Peter had completely forgotten about anything that was not James’ hand or the Snitch that was frequently caught within it. He even applauded when James caught it, especially if he let it get farther away than usual. He kept reading but in the back of his mind hoped that Peter would stop soon because a gullibly impressed Peter was one of Sirius’ favorite punching bags. Once, when Peter had stared at a fourth year girl and licked his lips, letting out a small groan and Sirius had not let him live it down for a week.

Finally, Sirius could not handle the lack of attention from his friends (although several girls were giving him looks and one had even gotten up to approach him, changing her mind later and sitting back down). He snapped at Peter “Put that away, will you? Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement.”

Peter blushed, and James grinned. Sirius wasn’t the only person who could be an attention-hog, after all.

“If it bothers you.”

“I’m bored,” Sirius said, “Wish it was full moon.”

 _That’s one way to get my attention, I suppose,_ Remus thought. Sirius was obviously irritated that Remus wasn’t paying attention to him.

“You might,” he said, not raising his eyes from his book. He wanted to revise in the little time that they had left. He didn’t feel like entertaining Sirius just now. “We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me… Here.” He held out his book towards the raven-haired boy, who looked amused by the gesture, and snorted.

“I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all,” he said.”

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” James said quietly, “Look who it is.”

Sirius turned and saw Snape. If he had been in dog form, his ears would have perked up. “Excellent,” he said, “Snivellus.”

The two dark-haired boys got up and walked towards Snape with determination. Thankfully, Peter did not join them. The less of a crowd, the less time Sirius and James would be entertained for. Remus stopped reading, but did not look up. He hated being a Prefect at times like these. What could he do, really? Not much. His friends would laugh him off at best and mock him at worst. So he stayed quiet.

“Alright, Snivellus?” James said loudly.

Snape immediately drew his wand but he was too late. James had cast a disarming spell already. Snape’s wand flew away. Sirius laughed.

“Impedimenta!” Sirius said and Snape was was knocked off his feet before he could reach his wand.

Students around them were watching now, and Remus cursed internally, wishing they would look away. _Don’t make it a spectacle, it just encourages them,_ he thought.

Proving his point, James glanced at the Gryffindor girls sitting just by the edge of the lake to see if they were watching before he continued his taunts.

“How did the exam go, Snivelly?”

“I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” Sirius said, voice dripping with condescension, “There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.”

People laughed, ignoring Remus’ silent pleas in his head.

“You— Wait—” Snape panted, glaring at James, “You— Wait—”

It was a silly threat, considering that both boys had sent each other to the infirmary with such frequency that it didn’t need to be made.

“Wait for what?” Sirius asked, tone bordering on bored. “What are you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?”

Snape swore and whispered curses that of course didn’t do anything without a wand in his hand except amuse James and Sirius.

“Was your mouth,” James said coldly, “Scourgify!”

Bubbles started coming out of Snape’s mouth and he started choking.

“Leave him ALONE!” shouted Lily, walking towards them angrily.

James ruffled his hair, looking at her.

“All right, Evans?” he asked her, his tone calm and mature, a stark contrast to what it had been mere seconds ago, mocking Snape.

“Leave him alone,” she repeated, looking disgusted. “What’s he done to you?”

Poisoned all of us with a potion that made us throw up every five minutes for a whole day on Tuesday, Remus thought but of course did not say anything out loud. The truth was that no, Snape did not deserve public humiliation in this way but he certainly was not blameless in James’ fury for him.

“Well,” James said thoughtfully, “It’s more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…”

People laughed again, even Peter. Remus pursed his lips for a moment, then forced his face to relax again.

“You think you’re funny,” Lily said coldly, “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone.”

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” James said quickly. “Go on… Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.”

It was a bold - but expected - move from James.

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid!” said Lily.

“Bad luck, Prongs,” Sirius said. Then, noticing Snape inching towards his wand, he said “Oi!”

Before he could do anything, Snape had already cast a curse and James started bleeding from a big gash in his face. James didn’t even flinch, instead sending Snape flying into the air.

Snape was now hanging upside down, his underpants visible and the crowd around them laughing. Even Lily’s mouth twitched for a second at the flailing boy.

What is it, Remus wondered, that makes humiliation of others entertaining at a fundamental level for so many people? Seeing underpants, by all means, should not be funny. Just the other day many Gryffindor and Hufflepuff boys had gone swimming in their underpants after Care of Magical Creatures. Nobody had laughed like this then. But as soon as it was involuntary… Amusement came to most.

“Let him down!” Lily said angrily, despite the earlier hint of amusement Remus had seen. Her hands lingered by her pocket, ready to draw her wand.

“Certainly,” James drawled and Snape fell onto the ground.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Sirius said, not missing a beat, and Snape was keeled over again.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted, wand out.

James and Sirius looked at her wand.

“Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you,” James said.

“Take the curse off him, then!”

James sighed deeply and lifted the curse from Snape.

“There you go,” he said, then turned to Snape. “You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—”

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. Snape may have been many things, but mean to Lily he was not. In fact, Remus was certain the boy was in love with her, which he thought fueled part of the rivalry between Snape and James.

“Fine,” Lily said slowly, “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_.”

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared.

“I don’t want _you_ to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, “You’re as bad as he is!”

“What?” James yelped, sounding genuinely surprised, “I’d NEVER call you a— you-know-what!”

“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can— I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.”

It was harsh, but Remus had to admit she had a point. James was far from humble and although his hair didn’t need help looking messy, he definitely ruffled it to make it look windswept.

Lily walked off angrily.

“Evans!” James shouted after her, “Hey, EVANS!”

She didn’t look back.

“What is it with her?” James said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” Sirius said seriously.

“Right,” James said, angry, “Right—”

One more flash of light and Snape was upside down, in the air, once again.

“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”

Thankfully they didn’t have to as within ten seconds McGonagall was hurrying towards them, wand already out. _Lily must have run into her and tipped her off_ , Remus thought.

They got five detentions to be served in the next two weeks and Remus got a separate talk about how he needed to be a better influence on his friends and not let things get to that level, as a Prefect.

 _As if I could do anything_ , Remus thought bitterly, but nodded and apologized to McGonagall, saying he would do better.

Remus walked back towards the dormitory alone, his friends having left a few minutes earlier when she excused them from her office. On the way, he thought about how he had considered asking Sirius out, to be his real boyfriend. Weren’t days like today a good reason not to? Remus was spineless, could never stand up to his friends. Not quite ‘equals’ and perhaps one of the reasons Sirius had not asked _him_ out.

~

He sighed and entered the dormitory to find James and Sirius playing mud shot while Peter complained that serving this many detentions during OWLs was ridiculous and he didn’t understand why _he_ had to serve them too.

“Stop moaning, Wormtail,” James sighed.

“All I’m saying,” the blond said, undeterred, “Is that I didn’t even have my wand out.”

“Moony wasn’t even paying attention, and he’s not ranting over it,” Sirius said coldly and Remus blinked. He almost sounded…angry at Remus for not having been a part of it.

Remus didn’t let his mind dwell on Sirius’ tone, writing it off as one of his moods. The full moon was too close for him to care, he just wanted to revise a little before bed, then rest. He went to the loo, got ready for bed, then with a quick “good night” at his friends, drew the curtains around him, ignoring Sirius’ huffing and James’ puzzled “It’s not even eight yet…”.

 

For a while, Remus blamed himself for not paying enough attention to Sirius. If he had been around him more, given him the spotlight like he wanted, maybe Sirius would not have had the boredom to wander around alone the night of the full moon and do what he did.


	9. The Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry this took a long time to update. I have actually been writing thousands of words of this fic, just later scenes. There is a LOT of fluff in the next chapters guys. Just warning. The angst in this story is far from over but the sappiest words I have ever written (fanfic or otherwise) are a-coming after this chapter.
> 
> Oh, one more warning, this chapter starts a bit before the last one ended, to take a look at Remus and Regulus a few months before the end of the year.

_**"It's less the words they say than those they leave unsaid that split old friends apart."** _

_Author: Frederick Buechner_

 

Remus was not forthcoming with his feelings. He never had been the type, and growing up with the Marauders had not changed that much. In fact, it had made him more secretive in some ways. All of the boys had a tendency to bury their good deeds in particular. If Peter lent you a shoulder to cry on, he would never bring it up again, or relay the information to anybody else. If Sirius hexed a Slytherin so badly that they had to spend days in the hospital wing because they said something mean about a Marauder, you would not know unless you literally walked in on the duel. If James took a Bludger for you in a game and the commentator didn’t point it out, you would never hear of it.

For all their boasting about pranks and even general intelligence, the Marauders were always silent about their achievements when they mattered. Their declaration of becoming Animagi had been almost a footnote. The one thing that had made Remus’ transformations bearable, an achievement unheld by many talented, adult wizards, and the Marauders had waved it off as if they had helped Remus write an essay for Potions.

So it was only natural, really, that Remus did not mention it to the Marauders that when, while he was doing his rounds, he had run into Regulus and helped him out of an awkward situation.

“And _that_ is for giving her jelly legs!” a boy growled, and Remus heard what sounded like a kick.

Turning the corner, he saw two boys towering over a Regulus who was sitting down, back to the wall, staring at the floor. He was too far to see the boy’s expression but Remus quickly gathered what was going on.

“And don’t forget how they painted her face brown! What even _was_ that hex?” the other one said, obviously frustrated by whatever he was recalling. He punched Regulus whose hand tightened around his wand, but the boy did not react otherwise.

“You’re not going to fight back, Black?” asked the first boy again. As Remus walked closer, he could see that he was Yax, a fourth-year Hufflepuff. The other boy Remus couldn’t recall the name of, but could only assume he was a classmate as he was sporting a Hufflepuff scarf.

“Quiet now that you are facing somebody your own size, aren’t you?” he spat out, “Not going to call us ‘filthy mudbloods’ this time?”

Finally, the younger Black brother reacted. “I never said that,” he whispered angrily the way Remus had only heard Sirius manage.

 _I suppose all Blacks have a penchant for the dramatic, especially when it comes to anger,_ he thought, amused.

“Don’t lie,” Yax shot back, pointing his wand at Regulus’ forehead as if it mattered where exactly it was pointing.

“I don’t use that word,” Regulus said, voice calm and eerie this time. Remus recognized this tone too. That was the quiet before the storm.

He was a few feet away from them when Regulus tilted his head up and saw the werewolf. Recognition flickered over his eyes, but he stayed still.

“I assume Mr. Black fell and you were helping him up, Mr. Yax?” Remus said airily, causing both Hufflepuff boys to whip around in surprise.

“Lupin!” Yax said, then looked between Regulus and Remus, realizing instantly that they had been caught. He seemed to consider for a second lying his way out, but decided otherwise. “He was bullying Johnson,” he said in an effort to explain himself.

“Oh?” Remus asked, and watched the two boys put their wands away as Regulus got up. “It sounded rather like he didn’t.”

“He’s lying,” said the second boy but before he could say more, Yax shut him up with a look.

“I don’t need rescuing, Lupin, you can be on your way now,” Regulus said calmly, straightening the arms of his robe and looking as if he had not a care in the world, despite the blood running down his nose and a bruise already forming on his right cheek. “We can handle this ourselves.”

“I’m a Prefect, Mr. Black, I have rounds whether it suits your extracurricular activities or not,” Remus said, hoping he sounded more amused than angry. He might not be friends with Regulus, but those boys had been bullying him, physically, and Remus would not have stood for that with anyone, and certainly not his best friend’s brother.

“Don’t even bother, Lupin,” Yax sighed, shrugging, “He’s a Black. They don’t know the meaning of gratitude. Can’t see anything beyond their own selves.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is almost as if you are _trying_ to make me take points from you, Yax,” he said in a dangerous tone. “For now, if you immediately disperse I will pretend I didn’t see anything. Granted, of course, that I don’t catch you so much as looking at the direction of Mr. Black.” The second boy opened his mouth to speak, but Remus kept his eyes on Yax and spoke over him. “I mean it. If you are in the same hallway for some reason, walk backwards if you have to, as long as your eyes don’t fall on him.”

“Stop it, Lupin,” Regulus said coldly, “They were not doing anything.”

“Your nose is bleeding,” Remus said matter-of-factly, “I should tell both your heads of house just for that alone.”

“You’re here to make sure nobody is out of bed too late, so go ahead and let us finish this so we can go back to our dormitories,” Regulus replied, unfazed by Remus’ small amount of authority as a Prefect.

“See?” the second boy said, almost shrieking, “He’s insufferable! He called— He called Johnson a— a mud— You know…”

“I told you I didn’t,” Regulus said and Remus knew that his calm was a facade. That really bothered him, for some reason. It was disturbingly easy to read Regulus if you knew Sirius.

“We heard you!”  
“No, you heard Mulciber,” Regulus said slowly, as if speaking to a child, “Not me.”

Yax considered this information for a moment or two. “Not like you stopped him. You’re all the same.”

“I’d like to think I have more tact,” Regulus replied dryly. “And better hair,” he added after a moment.

“But you _think_ the same way they do, even if you don’t say it,” Yax challenged him, both boys forgetting Remus’ presence, caught in their anger.

“I see the point in _some_ of his arguments, but not all,” the raven-haired boy said, “Just like with any other person.”

“You think only purebloods should be allowed in Hogwarts!”

“No. I think magic is for anybody who possesses it.”

“Then you’re claiming you agree with _nothing_ Mulciber and his gang believe,” the second boy huffed, indicating that he thought that Regulus was lying.

“I wouldn’t marry a muggleborn,” Regulus said thoughtfully, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“See? You think we’re _lesser_ because of our parents not having magic,” Yax said through gritted teeth and glanced at Remus as if he wanted the werewolf on his side.

Regulus shrugged. “Buckley is a muggleborn and I like _her_ ,” he said.

“But you wouldn’t _marry_ her because you think she’s _lesser._ Not deserving of being married to a high and mighty pureblood.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” was all Regulus offered in explanation. Remus had heard enough from Sirius to know that Regulus wanted to make his family proud and that would mean marrying not just a pureblood but one of their choosing.

“That’s quite enough,” Remus said, standing between the two boys now. “Ten points from Slytherin and twenty from Hufflepuff - ten a head.”

“Why are you protecting this Slytherin plonker, Lupin? Aren’t you a half-blood?”

“Another five for language,” Remus said happily, “And who knew you were interested enough in blood lineage to know mine?”

“Don’t your friends despise Slytherins?” Yax asked, undeterred by the points.

“One of my friends is a Black, too. Don’t understand why you would go the _friends_ angle when that is the case,” Remus said, his voice dropping from airy to calm, “One more sentence like that and it is fifty points from Hufflepuff. I have no problem explaining myself to Professor Vector.”

“Oh I get it,” the second boy said with the excitement of a student who had just remembered the correct answer to a question on an exam, “You want to protect your girl’s little brother.”

Regulus scowled. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“My girl?”

“Surely you don’t expect me to think that that camp is the man in _that_ relationship,” he said, disgust dripping from his words, “You at least have short hair.”

The werewolf’s fist met the Hufflepuff boy’s face at such speed and force that when he pulled his arm back even Remus was surprised to find him on the floor, all three boys staring at him. He should have known better. After all, his skinny form coupled with that strength was suspicious to say the least. He should not have done that. And yet, as he looked down at the boy clutching his broken nose, he didn’t feel remorse.

“Didn’t know you had that in you, Lupin,” Regulus said with laughter in his voice. He sounded more amused than impressed.

“YOU’RE A PREFECT!” the bleeding boy shouted.

“And you are an imbecile, but we all have our faults,” Remus replied, making Regulus raise his eyebrows in surprised delight.

The Hufflepuff boys finally went their way without further protest. Regulus stayed still and watched them walk off.

“You need to be less touchy if you don’t want them to say it again,” he said without malice in his voice. He sounded like he had experience with bullies, and was trying to pass it on. It was difficult to think of this spitting image of Sirius being bullied, let alone regularly enough to have a defense mechanism for it.

Remus shrugged, and ran his fingers on the bruising on his knuckles. He stretched his fingers, testing the damage he had done. His power might be that of a werewolf, but his current skin was not. He had hurt himself - potentially bad enough to need a potion. Inconvenient.

“You need to get better friends.”

“They’re not my friends,” Regulus said, pretending not to understand Remus’ meaning.

The older boy looked at the raven-haired one for a while before speaking again. “You are not like them, why hang out with them?”  
“You don’t know what I’m like,” Regulus replied quickly, as if he had been expecting the question.

“I know you refuse to call people ‘mudblood’, and that alone puts you in higher regard in my eyes than the losers I’ve seen you sitting with at dinner.”

“Been watching me, have you? One Black boy not enough?” Regulus said, not without anger in his tone. Another trait Remus knew well. Superficially humorous jabs that were aimed to hurt. “I am telling you now, I will not be involved in whatever fantasy you have.”

Remus laughed. That usually disarmed Sirius, and it worked on Regulus too. He was now looking at the werewolf with a hint of thinly-veiled confusion.

“I know you’re not Sirius,” he said simply. After a pause, he added: “Why didn’t you fight them back at all? To make them go away faster? They were hurting you…”

“I understand their anger, even if it is misdirected,” Regulus said, shrugging the clearly selfless act off.

 _Not like Sirius at all,_ he thought. To take unwarranted punishment - a punch to the _face_ no less - was as far from Sirius Black as Remus could imagine, really.

“Believe it or not, I am capable of making friends outside my House,” Remus found himself saying. He didn’t know why he was saying that, but his brain - too quickly for him to digest the thought, somehow - had decided that perhaps befriending the boy would be of help. Maybe if Regulus saw there was a chance to exist outside of the circle he was stuck in…

Regulus made a noncommittal noise, and looked at the werewolf as if considering a purchase.

“Good evening, Lupin,” he said in the end and started walking towards the dungeons.

At the time, Remus had seen this as Regulus declining his offer of friendship. But soon he would see that it was not the case.

~

Two weeks later, Regulus came by his table while he was revising. He mentioned to the surprised werewolf that he was taking Arithmancy and none of his friends were. He would appreciate if they could revise together so in the few instances where he had a query - his word - Remus would be there to talk it over with.

The light-brown haired boy had accepted eagerly, happy for the opportunity to perhaps help the two Black brothers in a way that even James had lost hope on. He made a point to not bring up Sirius at all in the next weeks as they met for revision. Quickly, their meet-ups turned into more chatting and less revising. In all honesty Regulus did not need much help, if at all, and Remus suspected the real motive for this arrangement had always been the friendship that did end up blossoming.

~

“Mate, you can’t just say ‘I just know it’ and ask me to trust you that Slughorn is selling Veritaserum. That’s a serious accusation if I’ve ever heard one,” Remus told Regulus who just smiled and kept writing down on his parchment.

“Come on, tell me what you know,” Remus prodded.

“You’re rubbish at Potions, you wouldn’t understand,” Regulus drawled but kept smiling down afterwards. This was how most of their conversations went. Remus uncharacteristically forward and Regulus uncharacteristically shy.

Remus chuckled, dipping his quill in ink. Then he held his quill upwards but on top of Regulus’ parchment.

“What are you doing, Lupin?”

“Aren’t we past last names by now, _Reggie_?” Remus answered cheerfully, letting his hand hover over Regulus’ work. When he first said it he didn’t know where he had heard it from, but later remembered that’s what Sirius called Regulus.

“ _Regulus_ will do just fine, _Remus_ ,” Regulus answered distractedly, frowning at the quill.

“Answer me or your homework gets it, Reggie,” Remus threatened.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You are stubborn,” he said with a grin, “Are you sure you are not a relative? Distant, of course, with that ugly mug of yours.”

“Are you sure you want to delay any further? I don’t know if I can keep this quill still for long,” Remus said, grinning, and shifted the quill in his hand slightly, pretending to almost spill ink from it. Just when Regulus made a move to snatch it, both boys were startled by a noise behind them and a big blot of ink fell on the parchment. Neither of the boys were looking down, so they did not see.

“What is this?” asked the source of the earlier noise: Sirius.

“Hey Padfoot,” Remus said, instead of answering the nonsensical question.

“Hello brother,” Regulus said with a nod, and then turned to his parchment, muttering a spell for getting the ink stain off of it.

“What are you two doing?” Sirius asked, voice demanding but not angry.

“Revising,” Regulus answered distractedly, still working on the stain.

Sirius pouted. Not a frown, but a childish pout. “You’re not in the same year,” he said slowly.

“We revise Arithmancy at our own levels,” Remus explained, “There is a surprising amount of overlap in theory. It helps to talk over things together, sometimes.”

“That didn’t sound like Arithmancy,” Sirius said and the fact that his voice was getting colder made alarm bells ring in Remus’ head.

“Er— I guess we… After a few weeks we became friends,” he said with a shrug. There was no point lying to Sirius. They weren’t doing anything untoward. Sirius loved Regulus, Remus knew that. There was no reason for him to be against this. Merlin knew Regulus needed better friends.

“And how did this—” he said, waving between the two boys, “Start exactly?” His tone suggested that he could think of a way that would be very inappropriate indeed.

“I’m not shagging your boy, brother,” Regulus said, amused. He took the last bit of the stain off, then turned towards Sirius, looking at him without any concern or shyness in his eyes.

Remus blushed and tried to keep his face still. As the two brothers stared at each other, having a silent conversation not unlike those Sirius had with James, Remus realized that he had only scratched the surface when it came to those two.

“As if Moony would consort with Slytherins,” Sirius said coolly.

“You’d be surprised,” Regulus said and grinned his lips into what Peter called the ‘Evil Sirius Sneer’.

While they were having the exchange, Remus had packed his things. “Let’s go, Padfoot,” he said firmly and moved towards the taller boy.

Sirius stared at Regulus for a few more moments before shrugging and walking off with Remus.

After that day, Remus made a point to be careful when he met with Regulus. He didn’t want to stop seeing him - and Sirius had not asked him to - but he did not want to cause tension between the two brothers either. He liked the younger Black boy, and wanted to have a non-Slytherin-friend option open for him. Remus understood Regulus better than most students would, so he was the natural choice.

~

The last full moon of the year was at the end of OWLs and the summer semester. It was a Saturday which would usually meant that students traveled during the day. But this year, the train would not leave until Sunday as the Astronomy professor had decided to take advantage of the “opportune timing” and have the exam on Saturday, during full moon. This would not be an issue for Remus since he did not take the class, except for the fact that all the other Marauders were. This meant he would be alone on the full moon, and also that he had to find an excuse believable enough to ditch the end-of-semester party the Gryffindors were holding when he couldn’t lie and say that he was going home. He _could_ have asked to be excused earlier but the truth was that the transformations were easier at Hogwarts even without his friends: Madam Pomfrey was an excellent healer.

Distracted by thoughts of a summer away from the castle he had begun long ago to think of as his home and how little time he had left before he would leave its comfortable bubble, Remus did not notice it when Severus Snape followed him around the castle. Thinking back, Remus would conclude that Snape must have cast charms to make himself undetectable or at least less detectable. He had been the only person to be able to sneak around the werewolf in all his time at Hogwarts.

After walking around the courtyard for a few minutes to calm himself down, he walked towards the forest. At this point, he did hear something but when he turned, there was no one. He would assume later, when he heard the story from James, that Snape must have been keeping a sizable distance as he followed him. Practice from following the Marauders around in the past, no doubt. If Remus was in the group, he would always know so they would never get caught, but Snape had managed to hex the other three sometimes when they were without the werewolf.

Remus may not have noticed the dark haired Slytherin follow him as he made his way to the Willow, but Sirius did. He had been idly looking down towards the Willow from the tower, distracted by thoughts of the full moon and Remus being alone. He had seen Remus in the courtyard and a figure following him. When Remus was a few feet from the Willow, Sirius took a quick glance around to make sure all other students were distracted and cast a body-bind spell on Snape, hoping it would hold even from this distance.

James, hearing Sirius mutter the spell, turned to him with raised eyebrows and mouthed a ‘what?’

“Snape,” Sirius hissed, “Is following Moony.”

“Shit,” James said under his breath, and looked towards their Professor, considering how they could get out.

“I’ll go, I’m done anyway,” Sirius whispered. It was mostly true, he had only a few questions left  and they both needed darkness and it was barely twilight. He didn’t need an ‘O’ on Astronomy.

He quickly gave his parchment to the professor and asked to be excused. She frowned, but accepted his paper. He ran down the hallway while summoning his broom. He knew he couldn’t run that far and make it in time. As soon as the broom zoomed towards him, he sighed a sigh of relief and flew the rest of the way.

He arrived just in time to see Snape brushing dust off of his robes, frowning and looking around to see where Remus may have went.

“If it isn’t dear Snivelly,” Sirius said, trying to keep his voice mocking and airy.

“If it isn’t Lupin’s girl,” Snape spat back, but he was smiling as if he was happy to see Sirius.

Sirius huffed but didn’t bother replying. Muggleborns and halfbloods had a tendency to dislike gay couples, and he was not surprised in the least that Snape would be prejudiced like that.

“Or is it the other way around?” Snape said, eyes glistening, “Regulus did mention that you do whatever Lupin says and here you are, running to his side.”

The mention of Regulus did get to Sirius a little, and unfortunately Snape could tell from the tensing of Sirius’ shoulders and his change in expression.

“I almost expected the other Black brother,” Snape continued, pressing the wound.

“Just get lost, Snivvy, before I hex you and you end up in the hospital wing.”

“After all,” Snape continued, “I know how close they are. In fact, I was hoping to catch them in the act, get a little leverage over the little Black heir…”

“I’m the Black heir,” Sirius replied automatically, trying not to hear the implications in Snape’s words.

Snape snorted. “When Walburga finds out that you refuse to sire children, I imagine that will change quickly,” he said dryly.

“I sleep with girls,” Sirius said quickly. Another automatic response. There wasn’t even anger in his voice, this time. He was too distracted by thoughts of Regulus and Remus.

“I have to say, the Forbidden Forest is quite the place for a rendezvous,” Snape said in mock awe, “But then again, I can just see Lupin loving being thrown onto the ground, gagging for—”

“They’re not— That’s not where Remus is,” Sirius cut him off from what surely was a graphic depiction of his _brother_ and Remus having sex.

“I saw him go towards the Forest, Black,” Snape said hurriedly, “I know he’s going there, I just don’t know why.”

A thought occurred to Sirius, all of a sudden. Half a thought, really, barely formed. It was enough to make him forget all of his anger and grin. Oh, this would be good. Snape would wet his pants. _That would wipe the smirk off of the asshole’s face._

“You want to know where he goes?” he asked Snape, doing his best impression of teasing a boy playfully.

Snape didn’t respond but the look in his eyes was enough confirmation for the unnecessary question. He _had_ been following the werewolf after all. Sirius almost giggled at the thought. Oh, how different the view would be from what Snape was expecting. He thought he would catch a poof in the act. He had another thing coming…

“See the Whomping Willow over there?” he said, pointing. Snape didn’t look, but nodded. Everybody knew about the tree. “There is a knot— Closer to the forest than the castle, you will notice it immediately as taller than the rest. If you push that knot, the tree freezes, and you can enter the hidden path from it.”

“You’re trying to get me to get torn apart by the Willow, Black, and no thank you,” Snape growled.

Sirius shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he said honestly. “Anyway, if you don’t want to know where Remus is, you don’t have to try.” He paused. “But I never took you for a coward, even if you are a slimy git. You do constantly go after me and James after all, when you know we’ll ruin you every time.”

Snape looked torn.

Sirius turned around to hide his face from Snape. Holding back laughter was hard enough without looking at the poor git. He started walking away, ignoring Snape’s muttering behind him.

~

Remus woke up in the hospital wing two days after the full moon. There was a pile of Honeydukes chocolate by his bedside with an envelope on it, Peter’s name scrawled on top. He did always know how to cheer Remus up if he needed it. The werewolf smiled before he realized something was off. He didn’t need cheering up. That was when he felt his whole body aching. It must have been a difficult transformation. Maybe they had snuck in to see him in the morning and seen how hurt he was.

His second surprise was when he looked out the window and saw that the sun was barely rising. How was that possible? He never woke up this early. Was that why he was in this much pain?

His question was answered when he looked down to see that his arms were covered in bandages. If they had been muggle ones, he would have taken them off to see what they were hiding. As it was, he just watched as they hummed with magic over his skin.

_How bad was it? Is it the next day already? Have I missed the train?_

It wasn’t long before he heard foot steps and Peter hushing James under the invisibility cloak, saying Pomfrey would hear them. The curtains around his bed seemed to part themselves open and close, then two boys appeared from beneath the invisibility cloak. James was scowling at Peter and Peter was looking at him sternly, and they didn’t notice that Remus was awake until he said, in a hoarse voice, “Thank you for the chocolate, Pete.” Speaking hurt much, much more than Remus had expected.

James and Peter turned to Remus and, instead of the smiles the werewolf had been expecting to see, they looked at him solemnly.

 _I must look in terrible shape, they’ve no color left in their faces_ , Remus thought, almost amused. He was far past being embarrassed about his injuries in front of his friends. Besides, being doted on was fun, sometimes.

“No problem, Moony,” Peter said slowly, but his expression did not brighten.

James licked his lips. It was funny how they were picking up each other’s habits. Licking lips had been Remus’ thing, when they had first met. “Peter,” he said quietly, “I think me and Moony need to have a chat. Mind going back up to the dormitory, mate?”

Peter nodded, and looked at the cloak in his hand, wondering if he should take it or not.

“Take it,” James answered for him, “I’ll be fine. And—” He threw a quick glance at Remus and licked his lips again. “Don’t tell him.”

With another nod and a swish of the cloak being put on, Peter was gone.

For a full minute, James fidgeted around the room, opening and closing his mouth every now and again. As the silence grew longer, Remus started to actually worry.

“Something happened,” he said, a half-question. Something had happened, he could tell from the dread in the air, but he didn’t know what.

James looked back at him then. He took a big breath. “Snape, he… He was there. At the Shack.”

Now Remus knew what a heart attack felt like, he thought. His heart clenched, all other pain in his body forgotten as his chest attempted to implode upon itself. That was it, then. He had slept longer because they had kept him sedated. And he was hurt more than usual because Snape had fought him, the poor soul, thinking he could take on a werewolf.

He closed his eyes and tears started rolling down his cheeks almost instantaneously. He did not need to ask what happened when a teenager was left in a room with a werewolf. The only question now was why he had not been put down already. Dumbledore, probably. Perhaps an arrangement had been made to send him to Azkaban instead.

As he thought about the end of his life, it didn’t occur to him to ask how that had happened. He didn’t think it mattered. When he found out, he realized it mattered more than anything else.

“Sirius… He thought…” James said, at a loss for words, gritting his teeth between words, fists clenched as if he wanted to hit Sirius.

Remus opened his eyes, and saw James’ pained expression and fisted hands. “What does Sirius have to do with any of this?”

“Snape goaded him on,” James said angrily and Remus could tell that he was angry at Sirius, not Snape, “And that daft idiot thought— He thought—”

Remus gasped as realization dawned. “Sirius brought him to the Shack?” It sounded like something Sirius would do. Pull Snape by the neck as a dog, thinking he could get in and out quickly, and then fail miserably. Or maybe he had not failed, had managed to get Snape out, but the wolf had torn itself apart at the loss of its prey.

“No,” James said miserably, the anger still not fully gone from his voice but his mood definitely more sad than furious. He looked at Remus’ eyes as if he was about to cry, too. “Remus he… He told Snape how to get in.” He paused. “The knot,” he said for clarification.

There was a moment of silence as Remus laid down, stunned.

“He thought it would be funny, to scare him,” James said, sounding frustrated.

A thousand questions popped in the werewolf’s head.

_He sent him alone? A teenager,_ **_not_ ** _an Animagus, to face a werewolf?_

_He tried to kill Snape?_

_He thought it would be_ **_funny_ ** _?_

James went on to explain the details. The tower, how Sirius saw Snape, how they got into an argument,… Remus barely heard it. If you had asked him a minute later what James had said, he would not have been able to tell you.

After he was done talking, James got up on the bed to hold Remus gently for a while. “We love you, Moony,” he whispered before leaving.

Shortly after he left, Pomfrey appeared and, seeing Remus awake, called Dumbledore over. The headmaster told the story (albeit a little differently) as if Remus had not heard it before. Dumbledore went on to tell Remus of James’ bravery which the Potter boy had brushed off when he had told the story to Remus.

 _James saved me, then,_ he thought, numb and happy at the same time, somehow.

He explained that Snape would keep quiet and the Ministry would never hear of this. Remus could, indeed, continue his education at Hogwarts since he was not at fault. Since the school year was over Sirius would not serve detention, but had been ‘explained the gravity of the situation’ as the headmaster put it.

At the mention of the school year being over, Remus got snapped out of his thoughts.

“Wait, how are they still here? My f— James and Peter and Sirius? Did they not take the train?”

“We couldn’t make them leave,” Dumbledore said with a sad smile, “They were worried about their friend and refused to get on the train.” He looked outside as if thinking back to a memory. “Mr. Potter flew away from Professor McGonagall when she urged him to leave the dormitory and get on the train. Madam Hooch spent an hour chasing him on a broom and did not manage to catch him. He only came down when I reassured him that he would not be forced to go back home yet.” His eyes were twinkling and he seemed rather amused at the memory. Remus didn’t dare ask what his other friends had done to the poor Professors to be able to stay.

They still wanted to be his friend. Cared about him. Loved him, according to James. They had seen the worst danger a werewolf could pose, seen the wolf hunting a human, and they had not wanted to leave. They had demanded to stay until they knew that Remus was alright.

How had he deserved such amazing friends?

Then he thought of what Sirius had done and his smile dropped. James and Peter might love him, but Sirius…

“He was foolish, but he loves you,” Dumbledore said gently. Remus didn’t bother asking him how he had known what he was thinking of.

He shrugged.

~

When he returned to the dormitory, James and Peter immediately looked up at him, James rushing to his side. He stood right next to Remus with an arm slightly held forward in case he needed support to walk. Remus would have been offended but he _was_ limping so he couldn’t complain about the sweet gesture.

“You all right, Moony? Dumbledore said you could walk around but… We could help you. Are you hungry? I could get you some food from the kitchens.” Peter was worried as always, and slowly walking towards him.

Sirius was staring at Remus with wide, scared eyes and a set jaw, clutching his sheets as he sat on the edge of Remus’ bed. The bed looked messy and Remus assumed Sirius had been sleeping there earlier.

“You’ve seen him, Sirius, now go,” James said coldly, without turning to look at Sirius.

Even though Sirius was known to listen to James more than anybody else, it still took Remus by surprise when, wordlessly, Sirius got up and made to leave. Just before he left the room, he turned back and told Remus “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Since Sirius was behind him, the werewolf didn’t know how he looked as he said the words, but he sounded as if he were in physical pain as he said them.

~

Dumbledore had given them two more days to relax before the Potters picked them up at Hogsmeade and dropped them to their homes. Remus’ parents had wanted to come but Dumbledore had convinced them not to. Apparently, they had been over while Remus was unconscious. Hope had begged to stay, but the headmaster was insistent. Being a muggle, Hope hadn’t been able to argue against him when he claimed it would be better with her gone for a few days. Lyall had simply been grateful the man was saving his son from being executed, and had not dared object.

The three boys stayed in the dormitory while Sirius slept in random spots (when he did sleep), mostly the common room couch. They didn’t speak to him, even James. James and Peter were angry at him, Remus simply felt sadness if he even glanced his way. Anger wasn’t what he was feeling. Being a werewolf meant that he was a dark creature, a weapon. Being used by a human was normal. If the Ministry had come, nobody would have bothered Sirius. No, what he did was legal and completely normal.

Except he had hoped that Sirius didn’t see him that way.

He had hoped that Sirius loved him.

He saw how foolish that hope was, now.

~

On their last day, Remus went to the hospital wing as he had done frequently in the last day and a half, to be checked one last time by Pomfrey and remove the last of his bandages. He would keep healing for at least a few more days, she had told him, but shouldn’t need to be wrapped any more.

When she took the bandages off and wiped the sticky substance off of his body, he suddenly felt dizzy. He didn’t say anything, but Madam Pomfrey saw his eyes almost roll to the back of his head.

“That’s normal,” she said in the soft voice she reserved for the young boy, “When the balm is first removed, you will feel quite weak. Not to worry, it passes. But best if you lay down for an hour or two here.”

He would have argued but before he could even say ‘thank you’, his eyes were shut and he was sleeping. When he woke up, his two friends were playing Exploding Snap next to his bed.

“Oh no, Moony, did we wake you?” Peter asked, immediately noticing the werewolf sit up on the bed.

“Playing a loud game next to a resting patient might not have been the best idea,” Remus laughed, “But don’t worry, I was out like the dead. Couldn’t have woken me if you had tried.”

They spoke for a few minutes until Peter noticed a vial next to Remus.

“Moony, there’s a potion next to you,” he said, pointing.

“So there is,” Remus said with a raised eyebrow. Usually Pomfrey gave him instructions before giving him potions. But then again, maybe she had and he had forgotten as he fell asleep. He shrugged. “Guess it’s for the pain,” he said and grabbed the vial.

It was small, tiny really. He played with it for a few moments, frowning. It looked like the potion Slughorn had given McKinnon once, when she accidentally swallowed Mandrake roots. Well, James had made it happen, but Slughorn had thought that it was an accident. He had told her “Small but effective. Drink it quickly now, all of it. It is powerful - why the small dose, you see - but tastes something awful.”

Imagining this tasted just as bad, he pinched his nose closed with one hand, and opened the vial with the other, tilting his head back and practically throwing the potion down his throat in one swift motion.

And that’s when the burning started.

He had thought that he had woken up in pain, a couple of days ago on this very bed. He had thought that he knew what pain was, when his bones broke and his skin tore itself apart every month.

And yet what he was feeling now was worlds away. He screamed but he could not hear his voice come out. He clawed at his throat, trying to tear his neck and esophagus so whatever the terrible, excruciating substance was could leave his body and stop going down to his stomach.

Then, he was unconscious once more.

~

This time, when he woke up, both his parents were there, as well as James. Hope was holding his hand and his father was closer to the end of his bed, his hand on Remus’ foot, the thin piece of hospital sheets the only thing separating them. Hope and James were both asleep, but his father was awake.

His throat hurt something fierce, but that was to be expected. He didn’t even try to speak. When he fluttered his eyelashes, his father noticed that he was awake and gave him a small smile. He looked so scared that Remus wanted to give him a hug, almost.

Seeing his father’s expression brought Remus back to when he had seen a similar expression, many years ago.

~

_FLASHBACK_

 

_“Remus?” he asked._

_The young werewolf looked up at his father._

_“Do you remember anything?” he whispered, and Remus could not read his expression. He tried to memorize it because it surprised him that his father had a feeling that he could not read. Maybe if he saw it again, he would understand what it meant._

_“Remus?” Lyall repeated when Remus stayed quiet._

_Remus blinked rapidly in fake confusion. “No,” he said simply._

_Lyall had the decency to not sigh in relief._

 

_END FLASHBACK_

~

Remus finally understood what had happened that morning in the hospital wing. Silver. He had drank pure silver. He was probably only alive because his friends would have immediately gotten Madam Pomfrey who was only a few feet away from them at the time.

How convenient that they had tried to kill him in the hospital wing. Stupid, of the murderer ( _‘Hunter’? Are werewolf killers ‘murderers’? Remus wondered_ ), but convenient for Remus.

It didn’t take long for Dumbledore to get Parkinson to admit to it. He had left the silver there in hopes that Remus would accidentally drink it. He had been furious that Dumbledore was letting “a filthy beast get away with attempted murder” as he put it. He had decided to take matters into his own hands if the Ministry couldn’t execute Remus.

Remus didn’t know what his other friends had done or said when they had found out but James’ presence showed that the young boy had refused to leave, once again. James left shortly after, explaining that his parents did not want him to stay any longer than necessary, no matter how “sick” his friend was, since they had already delayed their vacation a week. The werewolf reassured him that it was alright, he had to go home too anyway.

He was almost glad that Parkinson had tried to kill him. For one thing, regardless of the curse, there was always the worry that he would return the next year. For another, what he had done had made things shift in such a deep and horrible way that they had crossed the barrier or how bad things could get before they stopped talking about it.

There was nothing to say, and too much. So the Lupins stayed quiet during their journey back home, and the few days after. Eventually they started small talk again, and slowly things went back to normal as much as they could. Like they had, back then. When things get truly awful, there is no choice but to get over them.

His neck healed, he forced his heart to stop aching for Sirius (sending back his letters unopened), and moved on. He wouldn’t forget, no, but he couldn’t stop living because of what had happened. What good would that do? He still wanted to go back to Hogwarts and live the two more years he was promised as a Normal Boy, as much as he could be one.

Another change was that the dreams came back to him in a way they had not in many years.

 

_“Remus?” he asks._

_“Do you remember anything?”_

 

_His father is clutching on to him and crying again, although Remus can no longer feel or hear it._

_“I’m sorry. I am sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”_

 

_“Oh cariad,” she whispers, noticing his tears. She wipes them away with her fingers. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll be right here.”_

_Remus smiles gratefully. ‘But I won’t,’ he thinks but does not voice._

 

_“I’m sorry, Remus,” his father whispers in a shaky voice, “I am so, so sorry my son.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flashbacks Remus has a full story written (Mercy: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9474959 ) if you're curious.


	10. Something in the Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for eating disorder added. It is nothing blatant (maybe I'll write a short fic on it later) and I didn't want to make it a main plot point, but can be triggering.
> 
> Also, please let me know if you prefer longer chapters like this, or would rather I update more often with shorter 2-3k chapters. Sometimes I feel I need to write a LOT in one chapter so I don't have too many short ones for each year...

**_Year Six, Fall/Winter - 1976_ **

 

 ** _“Tonight the universe is testing me more than ever: it’s asking me to forgive you, even though you’re not sorry.”_** _\- sesapoetry_

 

Sixth year started almost as awkwardly as the fifth had ended. The Marauders, still in their usual compartment, were talking in a broken conversation. Words were not flowing as they used to, nobody was talking over anybody or finishing each other’s sentences.

It hung around them, like a heavy fog, what had happened.

There was more to it, though, Remus could tell. Peter could too, of course, and was fidgeting nervously long before Remus noticed Sirius and James sharing knowing looks. Remus had understood, as soon as he saw the two dark-haired boys, that James had truly forgiven him, but he couldn’t understand what the secret looks were for.

He tried to make things less awkward and pulled out some muggle playing cards, asking them if they are up for playing a hand or two. That was all it took, really. By the end of the train ride, the awkwardness was all but gone. They had played for Chocolate Frogs and Remus had won two rounds, but his Frogs sat uneaten in his bag when they walked towards their dormitory. 

Remus still expertly avoided even a graze from Sirius, but could now look him in the eye. Sirius could talk to him again, but only around people. Otherwise, they were the Marauders again, just like that.

~

Their first weekend - rather unfairly, Remus thought - included homework. That is why, on Sunday night, Peter and Remus were sitting quietly on a transformed couch in the Astronomy Tower, trying to finish off their essays. James had gotten detention already, and planned to ‘get inspiration’ from them tomorrow before the class. Sirius was absent too, but then again he had been even more attached to James than ever. Remus thought it might be because he was afraid of being around Remus without James there to mediate if need be. Not that they’d fought but the Black boy kept looking at Remus as if he expected him to throw him onto the ground and start punching him.

Sirius eventually came by, when Remus had only a few inches left of his essay.

“Sorry,” he said, causing both boys to look at him in surprise. It was unusual for Sirius to apologize at all, let alone for being late to do homework. “I was stuck trying to get out of that labyrinth of a passage we found the other week. I’ll never finish mapping that thing.”

Remus gave him a small smile of greeting, and went back to writing. Sirius settled down with a cushion on the floor next to them, and took Peter’s book from in front of him.

“Oi!” Peter said, but kept writing.

“You’re done with this one Wormy, I can tell,” Sirius said.

“Still nice to ask, you git,” he mumbled.

“Easier to ask for forgiveness!” Sirius chirped.

They wrote quietly for a while until Remus finished his essay and started re-reading it one last time. Once he was done, he looked down at Sirius’ parchment to see that he had already written  half a foot in impeccable cursive handwriting.

“Padfoot,” he whispered without thinking.

Sirius’ head snapped up instantly, and he looked at Remus with hopeful expectation. Remus felt bad about how desperate Sirius seemed to be for his forgiveness.

“Your handwriting,” Remus said, “It’s— How can you write so fast and that _well_?”

Sirius looked down at his parchment and frowned. “It’s faster for me to write this way than I normally do,” he said, his voice far-away.

“How is that even possible? Your normal handwriting is less legible than chicken scratch!” Peter exclaimed, sitting next to Sirius now and looking at the parchment.

Sirius shrugged and sat up, still frowning. “It takes effort to write messy,” he said quietly, not looking at either boy.

“You’re pulling our leg, that’s just not possible,” Peter said, “Is this how you keep getting ‘O’s? Pretending to us that your handwriting is poor, than give this fucking royal decree-level handwriting essays to Professors?”

Sirius looked around nervously. “I want to go back to the dormitory with you two and be there when Jamie gets back. I had to be quick, so I wrote in cursive,” he said defensively.

Remus furrowed his brows and looked at Sirius, trying to figure out what about this conversation was bothering him so.

“Let’s say I believe you,” Peter said, his tone suggesting he did anything but, “Why would you make your handwriting _worse_ if it takes more effort?”

Remus didn’t need to ask that. And really, after all these years, Peter should not have had to either. Surprisingly unobservant for Peter Pettigrew. Sirius didn’t answer.

“Hey Padfoot,” Remus said, trying to change the subject. This time, Sirius didn’t look up. “Want a sandwich?” He grabbed his plate that had been beside him, and offered it to Sirius.

“Oh, thank you,” Sirius said, and started eating happily, and went back to writing with his other hand.

That night, Remus couldn’t help but ask James what the handwriting was about. He was sure James must know the details. After looking thoughtfully at Sirius’ drawn curtains for several moments, James had whispered to Remus: “They used to curse him if he wrote any other way. Since he was five. His hand still twitches sometimes.”

Remus thought of Sirius’ beautiful, slender hands. Unmarked by scars, unlike Remus’. It went to show how deep some scars went, that they were not visible anymore to the naked eye.

~

If you asked anybody, they would say that Lily Evans stopped hating (or started liking, depending on who you talked to) James in seventh year. But Remus knew better. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she started looking at him differently, but he was sure it was long before seventh year. The first time he caught her looking at James with interest rather than annoyance was in sixth year.

They were laying down on the empty Quidditch pitch on an unusually warm September afternoon. James and Peter were playing ‘spot the witch that wants to be a bitch’ (which was a game during which they counted how many students were looking at Sirius). Remus was watching the sparse clouds go by until James called out to them.

“Oi, Moony, Padfoot, look at that,” he said, “The love of my life seems distressed.”

“I’m not distressed,” Sirius drawled, trying to follow James’ gaze to see what he was actually looking at. Remus did the same.

Lily Evans was stomping down from the court yard, walking towards Marlene. She flopped down next to her and started talking heatedly. The boys were too far away to hear what about, but could tell that Lily was upset.

As if on cue, Snape emerged from the court yard and took a few steps towards Lily before a Slytherin behind him put a hand on his shoulder and they both returned to the castle.

James jumped onto his feet and started mumbling spells as he flicked his wand carelessly and walked towards Lily.

“This can only end well,” said Sirius, chipper. He quite enjoyed seeing James embarrass himself.

They all got up and followed James slowly.

“Hey Evans,” James said, his voice an octave or two lower than natural. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Go away, Potter,” she sighed without turning around to look at him.

“Here,” James said, walking around her so they were facing each other, and floated a cup towards her.

“What is this?” she said, looking down at the cup in distaste.

“Hot chocolate,” he said as if it should be obvious. To be fair, the smell was so strong Remus was sure anybody in a two feet radius knew what it was.

“Why are you giving me hot chocolate? It’s 64 degrees,” she said and frowned at him, fingers hovering close to the cup, but not taking it in hand.

“Hot chocolate always makes things better,” he said brightly, and grinned. After a pause, he added. “You looked sad.” He took a few steps back. “Anyway, see you around.”

He walked away and Sirius’ eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair in surprise at James’ restraint. They turned to follow him, but not before Remus caught Lily staring at James walk away, confused. She was looking at him as if he were a puzzle to solve. Which, to be fair, he sort of was. He was a git most of the time, but with a heart of gold, somehow.

Remus followed his friends, shaking his head physically to try to get the smell of chocolate out of his nose.

That moment, Remus would believe years later, showed that Lily saw at least a thin layer beneath the surface of Cocky James Potter.

~

“You know, Remus,” Peter started, startling the werewolf slightly after the lengthy silence they had sat in in the dormitory, their two other friends in detention again. “We only have two years of school left.”

Remus sighed. He could already see where this was going. Surprising, Peter was not. “I’m not angry at him. We are still the Marauders.” He’d had this conversation with James on their first day back already.

“But you won’t, you know…” Peter’s voice trailed off. He glanced at Remus’ bed pointedly.

The dirty-blond raised an eyebrow. “It worries you that we’re not shagging any more?” he asked, amused.

“Nevermind, it’s a silly thought,” Peter replied, shrugging and looking away, a slight blush on his cheeks.

“What is?”

Peter opened and closed his mouth twice before speaking. “I just think…” Peter said, then paused, pretending to gather his thoughts. Remus could see through him easily, but didn’t mind. Pot, cauldron, and all that. “I think you’re wasting time.”

“Werewolves don’t live long but I dare hope I live past 18,” Remus shot back dryly. His eyes closed every so slightly and Peter knew that he had him. “I can pull after Hogwarts.”

“But you love him. And… And you won’t live with him ever again after we get out of here.” It surprised Remus how calm and collected Peter could be when he had a mission.

“Your point being..?” He didn’t bother trying to hide his feelings.

“It’s just— If _I_ were in your place— I mean…” He paused again, and Remus couldn’t quite tell whether he was sincere in his speech or not. He meant the words, Remus was sure, but the spluttering seemed rehearsed. “I can tell that you still love him, despite… And so, doesn’t it make sense to indulge?”

“‘Indulge’?” Remus repeated. “You are saying I should sleep with him while I have the chance?”

“I think so,” Peter replied honestly. “Sure would stop his moping and give you a chance to get off. I don’t see you talking to anybody else.”

“We haven’t been back a _month_ Peter,” Remus pointed out, but seemed thoughtful regardless.

“You know what I mean.”

Remus stayed quiet for a while, considering what Peter had said. “Maybe,” he said softly, and Peter’s expression showed that he was sighing a mental sigh of relief.

Almost a year later, when they recalled the conversation, Peter told Remus that Peter had been sure that if they started sleeping together again, that they would get together and acted as a couple. That he knew that Sirius had it in him to love Remus, even if nobody but Peter could see it at the time.

Remus spent the rest of the night thinking about Sirius and what he had done. They had barely spoken about it at all, not with Sirius. Sirius had sent him an owl apologizing for risking Remus’ life.

The unwritten words were that Sirius wasn’t _actually_ sorry. He was asking for forgiveness, but for the wrong thing. Not for using Remus, not for almost making him a murderer, not for trying to kill a fifteen-year-old boy, no matter how annoying he was.

No, he was asking for forgiveness for pulling a prank that almost got Remus ‘hurt’.

Remus didn’t know whether it was worth trying to explain to Sirius how much it hurt to have had Sirius do that to him. How much of a monster he felt. It wasn’t his potential execution that had upset Remus, not really. It was how badly he wanted to be human. How badly he hated the wolf and being used as a werewolf had only made him detest the monster in him more than ever.

After an hour of internal battle, Remus decided that forgiveness was the only option, if he ever wanted to feel happy again.

~

That night, after Sirius and James returned from their detention and everybody had gone to bed, Remus snuck into Sirius’. Sirius looked at him in surprise, eyes wide. He was frozen in his spot, not knowing how to react to the other boy’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

Remus kissed him in answer.

When morning came, Remus was woken up by butterfly kisses around his face. He smiled without opening his eyes. Sirius chuckled when he saw the smile.

“Morning, Moony,” he said quietly.

“M’n’n’,” Remus mumbled in response.

“We’ll miss breakfast if you don’t get your lazy werewolf arse up,” Sirius said, but was stroking Remus’ hair gently and the dirty-blond could hear the smile in his voice.

“You go,” he said, voice hoarse from sleep, “I’ll skip this morning.” He opened his eyes, and could tell that Sirius was about to protest. “You tired me out,” he said with a grin.

Sirius grinned back and shook his head. He gave Remus’ forehead a quick peck and got up to get dressed.

Remus watched Sirius get dressed from the bed, smiling to himself. Sirius was beaming. He had finally gotten his forgiveness. Sirius’ emotions were always clear as day, his conflicts simple. He was either feeling great, or was miserable. And now, having Remus’ forgiveness, he felt ecstatic and it was obvious to anybody who was in the same room as him.

~

Their dynamics improved dramatically as soon as the tension-that-they-did-not-speak-of between the two Marauders dissipated. In fact, Peter had said to Remus with a smile that he better get Sirius a good gift for Christmas for how good a boyfriend he was being.

It’s odd, how memory works sometimes. They must have shared a thousand kisses, hundreds of jokes and moments of laughter or pain. And yet, those that stuck with Remus weren’t the most grandiose or spectacular ones. Of course he would remember their biggest pranks like charming the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw dormitories to reverse the colors on all their flags and scarves. But when, as a grown man, he laid down and reminisced about the past, he often thought of the smaller moments he shared with his friends.

It was one of those memorable-but-not nights, and Sirius and Remus were laying in bed, sated.

“You know what I like best about this?”

“Getting off?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow, pulling up his pajama bottoms.

“Your face,” Sirius said with an odd smile.

“What?” The werewolf could feel his cheeks flushing.

“You smile, you growl— You let go. Stoic Remus disappears.” He brushed a rogue lock of hair away from Remus’ eyelid.

Remus’ heart skipped a beat. Was Sirius… Was he flirting? Being nice? They almost never spoke when they ddi this, and now Sirius seemed caring and sweet. He hadn’t even made a move to get dressed yet.

“Er” was all Remus could say.

“I like breaking your mask,” Sirius continued, and finally got up to find his boxers.

 _Oh_ , Remus thought, but said nothing. His chest tightened. _I don’t want my mask broken_.

Sirius looked at him oddly again, and Remus knew he should say something.

“Is that why you’re an annoying git to me?”

Sirius chuckled. “sometimes,” he admitted shamelessly. Once he had his boxers on, he went digging in his trunk. “We shouldn’t have skipped dinner, I’m starving. Do you want a chocolate bar? I’m too lazy to go down to the kitchens.”

“No thank you, I think I’ll sleep,” Remus said, and pulled the blankets up to his neck. He moved around, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. When he woke up, Sirius had his arms around him.

~

Remus really didn’t want his mask broken. It took a lot of effort to keep himself composed, and he was grateful for that. It was the one thing he knew his friends would never understand. They might understand pain one day if they end up fighting against Voldemort (assuming Dumbledore has not defeated him by then), and get Cruico’d. They might understand the Ministry’s awful bureaucracy aimed at making his life more difficult once they see him unable to hold a single job.

But the emotional part of it, the part that made the wolf want to scratch and claw his way out of Remus, was impossible to explain. He wasn’t a werewolf one day out of twenty eight. He was _always_ a werewolf. It was impossible to tell where the teenage hormones ended and the werewolf rage began, but it did not matter. Any sign of lack of control had to stopped, nipped at the bud.

James, Sirius and Remus walked down to the Great Hall from Charms, and sat down at the table. Peter should have been here by now, and they didn’t know why he wasn’t. The map was in the dormitory, and after a few minutes of waiting, James shrugged and began eating.

“I’ll look for him,” Remus said, getting up.

“Want me to come, Moony?” Sirius asked.

“It’s alright, I think I can find my way,” Remus said jokingly, “Where you were snogging Carrie last weekend, right?” He tried not to sound bitter, and hoped his smile would hide his jealousy.

Sirius barked out a laughter and nodded.

He walked towards the greenhouses but before he reached there, he heard voices. He drew out his wand immediately.

“I think it suits you quite nicely, _pig_ ,” Rosier sneered at Peter who now had a snout, and was bloated, his shirt buttons popping off and robe raising.

“Finite,” came Remus’ voice from around the corner. Peter remained unaltered.

“Oh look, your poor, sickly knight in armor,” the Slytherin sneered at Peter, who was crying silently.

“Turn him back, Rosier,” Remus sighed.

“Back to what?” he asked with fake innocent. “I see no difference than usual. Did he get a hair cut?”

“Ten points from Slytherin. Five more for every minute you haven’t fixed him.”

“Don’t be silly,” he laughed, “I’ll tell Slughorn you were lying, abusing your Prefect badge for your vendetta against Slytherins. They’ll believe _me_ over your sad self.”

Remus wanted nothing more than to hex Rosier. Or, even better, punch him until his knuckles were red with both of their bloods.

But he couldn’t. He had to stay calm. He forced himself to sigh again, pretending to be bored. He flicked his wand and Peter started levitating. “Let’s go to the hospital wing,” he muttered, and walked away with Peter, leaving a snickering Rosier behind him and ignoring, with all his will, the burning sensation underneath his skin.

His _pack_ was getting teased and hurt and he had to stay calm, or else Rosier would go after him and if that boy took an interest in him, it would not be long until he found out about his lycanthropy. So he gritted his teeth and forced his anger down.

~

Remus tried not to care but ever since Peter had brought it up, he couldn't help but wonder if he could actually _be_  with Sirius. Dare he hope for more than their casual intimacy?

'Why fix what isn't broken' his mother would have told him, but the problem with that question was the assumption that Remus was happy with the status quo. And he had been. But that was when he hadn't thought of the possibility of more. He decided that asking Sirius outright what he thought would not be fruitful because the other boy would either laugh him off or potentially stop their unspoken arrangement. But he needed to know what Sirius would think about the subject.

So he spoke to the next best person about it. Luckily for Remus, he had a detention to serve with him that week, after Sirius had run off under the invisibility cloak, leaving only Remus and James visible in the middle of Filch’s office.

"Hey Prongs?" he asked while scrubbing underneath the desks in the Transfiguration classroom. He hadn't planned for it to work out this way, but he was happy for the opportunity for time alone with James without raising suspicion. If he had simply asked to talk to James alone, the other two boys would have raised hell demanding to know what secret plan they were brewing.

"Yeah Moony?" he responded, frowning at a chair that he could not magic or scrub the purple blotches of paint off of.

"I need to know what Sirius thinks about something."

James raised an eyebrow and his expression changed into a curious one, but he didn't look away from the chair. "I am not Sirius," he said, deadpan, "Please refrain from pretending that I am. If I'm caught snogging a bloke, Evans will never give me the time of day."

Remus snorted. "She already doesn't." Then he paused. "In any case, I wanted to ask you because you two share a brain and I reckon if anybody knows what's going on in that hollow skull of his, it's you."

This time James turned to Remus, blinking several times quickly. There was a hint of worry in his eyes when he asked slowly: "Did he do something to bother you, Moony?"

"No, no," Remus said quickly. "It's just... You know that him and I are sleeping together, yeah?"

James groaned and turned back to the chair, scrubbing it now with a brush that was sparkling with magic. "Unfortunately. I could have lived my whole life without ever having seen my best mate's knob." He shuddered, and Remus got the impression that he was exaggerating the moment for dramatic effect. "I wish you had Obliviated me as I asked you to do."

Remus took a moment to gather his thoughts. James must have thought he was offended, because he started speaking again in a rushed tone. "Not that it bothers me. You two. The _idea_  of it. It's just... Merlin, Moony, that was a LOT of Padfoot I was not prepared to see. I would have felt just as weird if I had walked in on him with a bird."

Remus chuckled and waved his hand dismissively, reaching out from below the desk so James could see it. "Oh I know you're okay with us, Prongs. I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

He licked his lips. _This is it_ , he thought, _Got to go for it. Fuck._

"Do you think Sirius would be interested in— You know— More?"

James looked so relieved Remus wondered what horrible question he had been expecting.

"Oh bloody _hell_ Moony, you had me worried," he said and sighed afterwards to accentuate his relief. Sirius and James could never just _say_  something, they had to make their feelings blatantly obvious at all times. "Of course he's interested."

"Right," Remus said, nodding to himself and pointedly _not_ looking at his friend, although he had long since stopped actually trying to clean the desks. "Right."

After ten full seconds of pregnant silence which Remus was proud of James for allowing, Remus said "I suppose I need to— er— ask him out, then?" Another, shorter pause. "Do I have to buy him chocolate like Wormtail did with Amber? I've never done this before."

James laughed so hard that he was buckling over, tears in his eyes, within seconds. His charmed brush was leaving yellow marks on his shirt as it rubbed against it, but he didn't seem to care. “Oh— Oh Circe—“ he muttered between giggles, “You’re— You're such a girl— Merlin— Chocolates—"

"Giggling is not very manly," Remus huffed, trying to will his blush away. James didn't have to elaborate on why he was laughing - Remus knew. Imagining the werewolf, with a box of chocolates and roses in his hands, trying to ask Sirius out must be quite hilarious indeed. Remus would have laughed too, if the person in this scenario hadn't been him.

Instead of responding, James simply kept laughing until his laughter died down to less frequent chuckles and eventually stopped. Once he was calm enough to look at Remus and not burst into giggles, he did so and his expression quickly became the soft, gentle one that Remus had hoped for when first bringing the subject up. James could be truly cruel, even to his best friends, but he also had it within him to be kind. His eyes right now were suggesting he was in a kind mood.

"Mate, you don't need to do anything," he said calmly, "Just tell him you're dating now."

Remus raised a skeptical eyebrow at the suggestion. "That's what you've got? The Great James Potter's relationship advice is to just tell the other person they are dating already? How has Lily not fallen for you yet?"

"But you _are_ dating," James challenged, then looked at the sky and started holding out fingers one by one as if counting thoughts. "You sleep together, you _cuddle_  an unhealthy amount even for actual couples, you care about each other, you _always_  sit next to him at meals--"

Remus wasn't sure why he picked this moment to interfere, but he couldn't help but speak. "That's so you and Sirius can talk easily, across the table from each other. That's more of a couple thing, being across from one other." He felt proud for pointing this out, even though he couldn't imagine why he was arguing _against_  something he wanted to be true.

James snorted, and looked at Remus as if he were an idiot. Remus _did_  feel like an idiot, but it was because he was trying to talk about romance with a bloke who hadn't had a real girlfriend in his life, and was currently pining for a girl who would only look at him twice if she was trying to get a hex right.

"Not quite, Moony," he said in a patronizing voice, "We used to scheme and chat away just fine when we sat next to each other. No, you two sit together so you can grab each other beneath the table."

"I DO NOT!" Remus squealed, getting a chuckle out of James.

"I may be oblivious compared to Wormtail but I'm not _blind._ I've seen you put your hands on each other's legs."

"That's not... That's not _grabbing_."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, mate. Fact is, you two are already a couple."

Remus thought about it. James was being annoying about it but he wasn't far off the mark. They _did_  do a lot of things that if it had been two different people, it would have made them a couple.

"Mmm," Remus said noncommittally.

"Is that it? Can we stop talking about this now? Because I have an idea about how to get back at Sirius for throwing us under the bus for this one," James said with such seriousness that one would have thought they were talking about a troll mauling incident. Then James frowned and threw Remus a searching look. "You're not going to give him preferential treatment because he's your boyfriend now, are you? Because what he did was _wrong_  and he must _pay_ , Moony."

Remus' wolfish grin was all James had to see to know that Sirius Black would pay for what he had done dearly.

~

Once they were done plotting (and scrubbing) they headed back to the dormitory. All of Remus’ thoughts of hope regarding him and Sirius disappeared when they walked into the common room.

 _Right_ , he thought, **_That’s_** _how I know he doesn’t want to be with me._

Sirius and Marlene were sitting on the couch, Marlene on Sirius’ lap. He was planting small kisses on her face and mouth, tilting his head back and forth almost like a duck. She was giggling and stroking his chest. They looked disgustingly cute and some older girls watched them with a smile while a few others glared at Marlene in jealousy.

Sirius nuzzled against Marlene’s neck and planted a soft kiss there. “I could stare into your eyes for _days_ , Marls,” he whispered loudly, “You make me shiver when you just walk into a room from anticipation of what’s to come. Your kisses—” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before returning to his attention to her neck. “Your kisses taste like honey. I wish I could wake up with you under the stars every morning.”

Remus could have sworn he heard a girl actually _coo._ Sirius wasn’t even telling that sappy crap at her! What was she cooing about?

His hands clenched into fists and he walked up the dormitory steps, gritting his teeth. Of course he couldn’t be with Sirius. Most he’d gotten from Sirius was how much he ‘enjoyed’ what they did or ‘love getting off with him’. If even his flavor of the month got poetry, Remus was less of a romantic candidate than the Whomping Willow.

~

The next day Remus tried his best not to act frustrated. Why had he let himself hope? That’s what had gotten him into this mess. He should have stuck to enjoying the - very good - sex they had been having.

Unable to look at Marlene giving Sirius’ arm playful tugs anymore, Remus got up from the table, saying he didn’t feel hungry.

Unfortunately, it seemed that today, two months into the term, was the night Sirius would finally get the courage to talk to Remus alone, out of the safety of their beds. He followed the werewolf out of the Great Hall without even pretending to hide it. Remus let him, curious as to what he would say. The thing about secrets like this is that, often, part of you wants to be found out.

“What are you doing?” Sirius growled once they were in a deserted hallway.

 _Anger, then_ , Remus thought, _That’s what we are going with. How very Sirius Black._

“Going to the library. Not everyone’s banned from it, you know,” Remus said airily.

“Don’t— Don’t do that,” Sirius said and Remus could tell he was exercising a great amount of self-control for Sirius Black. He was trying to sound calm and not punch walls and shout. “Why don’t you eat?”

“I eat,” Remus said easily. Truths that revealed nothing, ‘lying by omission’ was where he felt most comfortable, after all. It was easier than lying _or_ telling the truth, somehow. He felt more in control.

Sirius moved towards him then, and held him by the wrist. Remus winced involuntarily. He shared a body with the wolf, after all, and was feeling the effects of being too thin.

“You’re starving yourself. Why?” When Remus didn’t answer, he continued. “I noticed it on the train, you know. But I thought…” He shook his head. “I thought maybe you hadn’t had enough to eat at home. But at Hogwarts there is always food. And you won’t touch it.”

He had clearly thought about this. How odd that the selfish, thoughtless Sirius Black had noticed a change in somebody else on the very first day when sweet, observant Peter still hadn’t after a month. How odd that Sirius Black cared about Remus now, when he had not cared at all just a few months ago.

Remus shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling hungry. I can get more from the kitchens later.”

“Bollocks. Just tell me why you’re not eating,” Sirius said, frustrated and sounding almost defeated, “Is it because of me?”

 _You think everything is about you, Sirius,_ he thought. It was almost endearing, his childish self-centeredness. _It’s not because I’m depressed. It’s because I want to kill the wolf._

Remus thought about continuing to lie, or simply walking away. Sirius didn’t deserve an explanation, not really.

This rage within him, this fight— it was against the wolf, not Sirius. He hated the wolf in him with more passion than he ever had. Parkinson had been right, he should not go unpunished. And this was the wolf’s punishment. He wanted to beat the wolf into submission. The more control he exerted over the beast, the more human he would be, wouldn’t he? Maybe then Sirius would forget about what happened to him once a month. Maybe he could see him as a boy, as a boy worth loving.

“It’s— I don’t actually _need_ to eat as much as you,” Remus said, surprising himself with his directness.

“Of course you do, Moony, look at you,” Sirius said with a frown.

Remus shook his head. “I will lose some weight, yes, but the wolf—”

Remus didn’t know how Sirius knew. How he had understood. How he knew exactly what to do. But what happened next had been brilliant in its simplicity and Remus would never forget it. It had almost made all the angst of the past few months worth it.

“Remus,” Sirius said, cutting him off, “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Why you’re not eating. You said ‘the wolf’— Are you not eating because you want to test ‘the wolf’, is that it?” He had said ‘the wolf’ as if it were a foreign word, or a lie.

Remus licked his lips. “I…” He looked up at the raven-haired boy. He was watching him with sincerity and a dash of fear. When Remus looked at Sirius, he didn’t see what he had been seeing for months. There was no pity, no misery, not even lust. Only caring. He was looking at Remus the way his mother might. He felt warm and guilty all at once and somehow - somehow - his tongue untangled and it all came spilling out.

“I want to hurt the wolf,” he whispered, averting his gaze.

Sirius took a breath as if he was about to talk, then stopped. Remus stole a glance to see what he was doing, and Sirius was looking at him with determination. The werewolf could see the gears in his head working, planning what to say next. “Why do you want to hurt the wolf?”

“Because I want to feel human,” Remus said, amazed at how easily truth was coming out. He had never been this open about anything with anyone before. Something about the way Sirius was looking at him made him feel safe. “I hate the wolf.”

“I don’t,” Sirius said quickly.

“You do, or you should,” Remus said calmly.

“I don’t because ‘the wolf’ doesn’t exist, Remus,” Sirius said, making Remus’ head snap up.

“I think you’ll find that he does,” Remus said dryly, “Or have you forgotten in the last few months?”

Sirius didn’t seem bothered by Remus’ cold tone, and pressed on. “‘The wolf’ isn’t a separate person or beast, Remus. It’s a part of you. Less controlled, of course, but it’s like— It’s like when you really have to pee. At some point, your body will give in and you’ll piss. But you’re still you, just unable to control this one urge in this one particular circumstance.”

“I… What?” Remus blinked, any coldness or misery gone from his voice. Now he was just plain confused.

Sirius actually blushed. “There is no separate wolf. There is Remus. Yes, you’re furry once every twenty-eight days, but…”

And just like that, the misery and anger was back. “You think I’m a killer every day of the month?” It was unfair, seeing as how he himself knew that he was a werewolf every day of the month, but Sirius’ words angered him nevertheless. He felt light-headed.

“Merlin’s balls Moony, that’s not what I’m saying _at all_!” Sirius gasped putting his hands on his head. “I’m not good at this,” he huffed.

“What _are_ you saying, then?”

“You’re a werewolf every day of the month,” Sirius started, mirroring Remus’ thoughts, and did not let Remus cut him off as he kept speaking. “ _Not_ a killer, but a werewolf. You don’t have any urges any other night because, well, you can’t really turn anyone any other night, can you? It’s like when girls get hornier when they’re more likely to get pregnant. And even then, you’re not really looking to kill, you’re looking to build a pack. That’s why we can steer you away from humans because when we’re there, you don’t need to bite people to make a pack, you already have a pack.”

Remus blinked slowly several times. “Girls what now?”

The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes. “ _That_ ’s the part that you want to know about?”

“I’m just surprised you know when girls are— ‘more likely to get pregnant’, you said?”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”  
“I don’t like the subject.”

“Stop being a child, Remus, that’s my job.”

“What do you want me to say?” Remus sighed.

Sirius moved closer, close enough that their toes were almost touching and Remus had to look up slightly to catch his eyes.

“I want you to stop this ‘hurting the wolf’ nonsense because you’re only hurting yourself.”

“I want to feel human,” Remus said, looking away.

“Why?”

The werewolf frowned. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why do you want to ‘feel human’, whatever that means?” Sirius asked, shrugging.

 _Because I want you to love me,_ he thought.

“Because I want _you_ to think of me as human,” he said, instead. Close enough.

Sirius took a moment to consider what this might mean. When he spoke again, his words were slow and deliberate. “Do you think I don’t think of you the same as myself or James or Peter?”

Remus felt his shoulders drop, and held back a sigh. Of course he didn’t. If he had, he wouldn’t have done what he did. “You’re not sending Snape to James’ Quidditch practice,” he said bitterly.

The raven-haired boy winced at the words. “Remus,” he said, “I am so, so sorry for what I did. I just wanted to scare Snape, I didn’t think—”

“You _did_ think, Sirius! You wanted to kill him!” Remus snarled.

“I promise you I only wanted to scare him,” Sirius said slowly, an odd contrast to the usually-calm werewolf’s snarling. “Honestly if I had been able to arrange Prongs to be there and trample him, that would have worked too. That miserable git, following us around, trying to cause trouble— He deserved to get scared!”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other for a while, Sirius shifting his right foot nervously, Remus searching his face for any sign of deceit.

“You didn’t think the wolf would kill him?”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” Sirius said honestly, “To me what you call ‘the wolf’ is the Moony I play around with as Padfoot once a month. Roll around in the dirt of the Forbidden Forest, wrestle in the Shack.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been safe around you, no matter the time of the month. I still know that your wolf form is bloody huge and menacing to people who don’t know you’re just a playful pup.”

Remus didn’t know how to answer that. He had already forgiven Sirius so it wasn’t that he forgave him just then, but he did feel some weight get lifted off of his shoulders. As if sensing this, Sirius took his chin and made their eyes meet. Their lips were an inch apart.

“You’re something else, Lupin,” he said softly, “I go ahead and almost get you killed and you’re worried I don’t think of _you_ as a human being.” He was looking at Remus with kindness and what the werewolf read as hope.

Maybe it was Sirius’ proximity intoxicating him or maybe just the catharsis of talking about what had been eating him for months, but he found himself brave enough to keep being honest. “I want you to want me,” he said, managing not to stutter.

“Oh Remus,” Sirius sighed, looking pained, “Did you think I didn’t want you? Because— Because of what I did?”

Remus shrugged, and would have looked away if Sirius hadn’t been holding his chin still. “Not like you have come close to me at all since it happened,” he said, “Not until I lunged myself at you.” He felt his cheeks burn.

Sirius chuckled. “You’re an _idiot_ , Moony,” he said, laughter in his voice, “Absolutely daft.” He gave Remus a quick peck on the lips. “I stayed away because I thought you were mad at me, that I didn’t deserve to touch you.” He hugged Remus, burying his nose in the shorter boy’s hair. “I missed you so much.”

Remus stood in the embrace, frozen. He tentatively raised one hand to Sirius’ back in reciprocation after a few moments.

“I don’t think I’m an idiot,” Remus said defiantly, voice muffled by Sirius’ robe covering his mouth.

The dark-haired boy’s laughter vibrated his whole body and he wondered how he had gone without it - without _this_ \- for as long as he had.

It took a while for Remus to get used to eating again. Sirius was uncharacteristically helpful. Making sure he always had small pieces of food around him, but never forcing him to eat big meals, not until he had built up to them. When the subject came up more than a decade later, Sirius admitted that he had asked for Madam Pomfrey’s help.

~

Remus remembered Sirius’ seventeenth birthday clearly because he had spent it alone in the Room of Requirements after seeing Sirius’ “Kissing Booth”. It was the girls’ present to him, and he was taking shots and enjoying snogging random students.

Remus didn’t want to be in the same room with that, so he left.

In the morning, Sirius did ask where he was, but Remus told him that he was there, Sirius was just to drunk and didn’t notice. Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but then stopped himself, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

~

A few days before Christmas break, Remus finally found out what the secret looks between James and Sirius had been about, back at the start of the school year, on the train.

“Hey Sirius, you still haven’t given McGonagall your request to stay behind, have you? Could you take mine too?” Remus asked, handing him a parchment from his bag. Sirius and James had Transfiguration next.

“Oh, I can give her yours if you want, but I’m not staying behind,” Sirius said guiltily. “Sorry I forgot to mention it, Moony.”

“You’re not?” Remus asked, confused.

“No,” Sirius said and shook his head, looking away.

“Then I won’t either,” Remus said, putting the parchment back into his bag, “But why? You _hate_ your family, why would you willingly spend more time with them?”

Sirius didn’t answer for a few seconds, and James kept giving him an odd, knowing look.

 _What’s going on?_ Remus wondered.

“I…” Sirius started, then scratched the back of his head, seemingly at a loss for words.

Remus waited patiently for him to continue.

“I don’t live at Grimmauld place anymore,” he said. “At the Black Manor I mean.”

The werewolf blinked rapidly a few times in confusion. “You don’t?”

Sirius looked at James as if asking for permission. James rolled his eyes, but there was no mockery or laughter in his expression when he spoke.

“Sirius ran from home this July,” he explained to Remus, “Or rather, _flew_ , stealing his father’s broom. Showed up at my door step, the dirty mutt, and asked if we might give a stray room for a few days.”

“You live with the Potters now?” Remus asked Sirius softly.

Sirius grinned at that. “Yeah,” he said easily, “They’re brilliant, Moony.”

Remus smiled and nodded. He had been to the Potter house before. James’ parents were lovely indeed. They were older than Remus’ parents, but lively and healthy.

“I’m happy for you, Padfoot,” Remus said, trying not to feel jealous that he hadn’t been told before now. He shouldn’t be surprised at the other two boys’ closeness by now, but he couldn’t help how he felt. Most of the time he was used to it, but then things like this would happen and he would envy James for having been the one to comfort Sirius.

“More importantly,” James said seriously, “Padfoot and I made New Years plans. You need to convince Lyall to let you come.”

“What plans?” Remus asked, blinking and glancing at his watch. They would be late if they didn’t start moving soon.

“Party in Muggle London, then spend the night at a hotel,” James said with a grin. Sirius blushed, and Remus wondered if James had paid for it. If Sirius had run from home, he probably didn’t have any money to be spending in London.

Remus wondered if his mother would let him… It would only be one night, after all, and far from the full moon. James mistook his silence for a different kind of contemplation.

“It’s already paid for, Moony, so don’t you dare try to weasel your way out of it,” he said in his I-will-not-take-no-for-an-answer voice.

The werewolf smiled fondly. “Yeah alright, I’ll ask mam.” He looked at his watch again. “Really need to go now.”

When he owled them, his parents said they would consider it, but could not see anything immediately wrong with Remus spending the night with his friends in London, ‘close to the Black Manor’. Remus had neglected to mention that this would not help anybody with anything. 

Once Remus was home, Lyall had given in unexpectedly quickly (glad that his son had friends, probably) but Hope kept oscillating.

“You’re _finally_ home for Christmas break,” she would say every now and again.

“It’s a single night, mam,” he would respond, rolling his eyes.

“What if you— There are _drunk people_ out on the street on New Years. What if you need to get away?” Hope asked him once at the dinner table, a few days before New Years. This got Lyall’s attention.

“That is a good point actually, Remus,” he said, “You will be close but surely not right at the Blacks’ doorstep.”

 _We would get killed if we did that, probably,_ Remus thought.

“Sirius is of age. He can cast repellents if drunks try to approach us,” he said, doing some quick thinking. It wasn’t untrue. His parents seemed to relax at that.

Thankfully, on 31st of December, both his parents let him go without a fight except for insisting that he needed his scarf. If they hadn’t, Remus would not have had one of the most amazing, most memorable night of his life that his friends (ironically) barely remembered, the morning after.

~

They met, as agreed, at the entrance to Diagon Alley, as most of the Floo’d over. Peter suggested eating at a magical restaurant but Sirius refused immediately, saying they were going to have a Muggle New Years. So they started walking towards a part of town that James knew to host a series of restaurants for them to pick from.

“Wait,” James said suddenly stopping.

“What?” Remus said, stopping abruptly to not run into his friend.

James narrowed his eyes at Peter who was next to him. “Wormtail,” he said, accusingly.

Peter looked around nervously as he did when a Professor was interrogating him about a prank. “What?” he squeaked.

“What the fuck?” James asked, grabbing his backpack and raising it.

“Oh,” Peter said, blinking rapidly. “My bag? What about it?”

“You brought a _backpack_?” Sirius groaned.

James glared at Peter as if he had been insulted. 

“What’s in the backpack, Wormtail?” he asked, warning in his voice. His left hand twitched over his right pocket where he usually had his wand.

“If you don’t say Firewhiskey, Wormy,” Sirius continued for James, “There will be trouble.”

Peter looked from James to Sirius a couple of times, then back at Remus. Then, he huffed and shrugged. “We’re staying the night. Pajamas, toothbrush,—”

“Fuck’s sake, Wormtail, you halfwit,” Sirius groaned as James started pulling off Peter’s backpack. “Bad enough that you decided to wear that jacket with the ridiculous collars—”

“It’s what Muggles are wearing!” Peter protested, trying to move away from James but only managing to make his backpack fall further.

James held Peter’s backpack in hand and tried to pull out his wand before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then his forehead unwrinkled when he remembered that he could not use magic and he had left his wand at home. He looked at Sirius expectantly.

“DO NOT BURN MY BAG!” Peter shouted, jumping between Sirius and the bag. Sirius rolled his eyes, he had not reached for his wand.

“You deserve it,” James said.

“Mom would not have left me without it!” Peter said, eyes darting suggesting that he was thinking quickly, “She would be suspicious if I didn’t need anything, like I was not going to sleep.”

James didn’t look like he believed him, but he did not respond right away.

“Can’t we just drop it by the hotel?”

Sirius tensed.

“S’pose,” James sighed, “It’s not far off the way.” He threw Peter’s bag onto the floor. The other boy quickly caught it and put it back on.

James gave Sirius an odd look, noticing his tension, but nobody commented as they kept walking. James and Sirius walked in front, leading the other two boys. It did not occur to Remus to ask where they were staying - he barely knew London anyway - until the dark-haired boys took a left and entered what to Remus looked almost like a Muggle embassy, with all the flags in front of it.

When they entered the building, both Remus and Peter were frozen in place. Remus’ mouth gaped. Hogwarts was a breathtaking castle and had over a hundred house elves serving them but this— This was a kind of luxurious interior that neither boy had ever seen before. The floors which should have been full of footsteps from people walking in from the rainy, dirty London streets were spotless. Everything shone, even the walls. There were couches as big as the common room couch in front of them - but half a dozen of them. With all the couches, tables and extravagant decoration, the place still seemed enormous.

James and Sirius didn’t even pause to take a look, walking quickly towards what Remus could only assume was the front desk.

How much was this _costing_ the Potters?

“Fuck me,” Peter breathed.

“I know,” Remus agreed. “Merlin’s balls.” There was nothing more to say, really.

They finally caught up to the other two boys. James was looking around aloofly and Remus wondered if he was trying to look older. Sirius was standing up straighter than usual, and looking at the lady with a raised eyebrow and slight distaste in his expression. There was another lady - a young girl in her late teens - looking embarrassed right next to the receptionist.

“I apologize for Helena’s behavior, Mr. Black,” the receptionist told Sirius, “She’s new.”

Sirius nodded and lowered his eyebrow but did not respond otherwise.

The receptionist suddenly looked surprised, and started frantically flipping pages, giving the four boys a quick confused glance.

“There— I am _so_ sorry Mr. Black,” she said and she sounded it. “There seems to have been a mistake.”

“What is it?” Sirius sighed, but Remus got the impression that he knew the answer already.

“I don’t know _how_ this has happened but— But the wrong rooms were booked.”

“Not enough room?” James asked, and the receptionist turned to him with an apologetic smile.

“Well, technically, there is, but…” She paused. “Two rooms were booked, for four people total,” she said, with the rehearsed tone of a person who had recounted reservations many times before which, from the looks of her, she had. But after she said that part, her voice became unsure again. “Instead of the Prince of Wales or Green Park, the Royal Suite was booked which would have been all right except it only has one bedroom.” She paused. “With a single bed.” Her cheeks colored. “With— Er— The ‘honeymoon’ services.” She took a deep breath. “We can cancel the massages and even clean the room if you give us some time, but I’m afraid the bed will still be one. I’ve looked and there are no other suites available, not even regular rooms. Not that we would want you to stay in a regular room, Mr. Black, but…” She looked scared, and was looking at Sirius as if expecting to be scolded.

Playing his part, Sirius sighed deeply. “What is the other suite, then?”

“A regular suite with a single bedroom, but two separate beds,” she said, still braced for scolding. “Very close to the Royal one.”

 _What a thing it must be to be rich,_ Remus thought, _That this forty-year-old woman is scared of a teenager._ He was watching the scene unfold before him in awe.

_Wait, how is Sirius paying for this? Or did they just use his name, but Potters’ money?_

Sirius nodded, and looked around pretending to think it over. “It’s fine,” he said in the end, “We’ll take them.”

Relief washed over the receptionist’s face. “We’re used to sleeping in the same dormitory,” he continued in such a posh accent that Peter let out a giggle that he hid (unsuccessfully) behind a cough. “I’m sure we can share a bed for the night.”

He took the keys from the receptionist and Remus could have sworn that even that gesture was elegant in a way that Sirius usually was not. Everything from his posture to his slightly drooped eyelids screamed ‘pureblood’. Or ‘rich’. James wasn’t acting as differently, but he definitely seemed in his element, not taken aback by any of it as Peter and Remus were. He was looking around with the bored impatience of a kid who had seen this a hundred times. He probably had.

“Do you recall the way, Mr. Black?” the receptionist asked kindly, back to her almost-flirty tone now that she knew she was not in trouble.

“Of course,” he said dismissively, and made to turn around before she stopped him again.

“One last thing. Of course you don’t have to, but for emergencies, you may leave your names.”

“James Potter,” James said, taking his elbow off of the counter. “Just reach for the Potters, they’re the ‘adults in charge’ for the night.” He winked at her, and she giggled.

~

“The regular suites are this way,” Sirius said with a wave to his left after they had walked for at least five minutes. Not that Remus had felt the time pass by, he was too busy staring at the walls. “The Royal one is a bit farther ahead. Best to just go to the regular one for now.”

“Wouldn’t the Royal be much bigger?” James asked with a pensive frown. Then he grinned. “We could drink before we go out.”

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. “I s’pose. Moony and Wormtail can take that one, so we can leave Peter’s bag there. You and I won’t sleep much anyway, right Jamie?” He tried to grin, but he sounded nervous.

James raised his eyebrows. “What the bloody hell are you talking about? Since when do you mind sharing a bed with Moony?” Then he turned to Peter with a wicked grin. “Peter you rascal, did you and Moony start messing around too?”

“NO!” yelled out both Remus and Peter, sounding rightfully scandalized.

Sirius was openly blushing now, and his flustered expression looked comical coupled with his bad boy looks - Dr. Martens, tight jeans and a studded leather jacket. His nervous spluttering was far from punk. “I just— It’s— She said there was _stuff_ there.” His eyes darted over Remus’ face before returning to look at James. “It’s awkward.”

James laughed. “It’s probably just some rose petals and a bottle of champagne that we can help you finish before we even step out of the hotel, Pads,” he said. His words were of the teasing sort, but his tone was gentle. Sirius shrugged and mumbled to himself under his breath, too low for even Remus to make out the words, apparently. Remus could have sword Sirius was speaking gibberish.

“Fine,” he said in the end. He threw a set of keys at Peter. “Go drop your bag off, you twit.”

Peter caught the keys and read the number on them, then looked down the corridor. It didn’t take him long to find the room. As promised, it was only a few doors down, close to the end of the hallway.

Peter came out of the room twenty seconds later.

“What did you do, take a piss? We have been waiting,” James said, turning around to walk as soon as Peter reappeared.

“Sorry,” Peter said, “I was just— That room is _amazing,_ Prongs!”

James shrugged and Sirius rolled his eyes.

Peter turned to Remus. “It’s almost bigger than our dormitory and it’s for _two people_!” he informed the werewolf.

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Sounds impressive, Wormtail.”

They entered the Royal suite.

“It was,” Peter gasped, “Until we walked into this place. Merlin’s saggy balls James can your family adopt me too?” He started running around, investigating the place.

Even James seemed somewhat impressed as he looked around. James and Remus walked around, but Sirius stayed in the first room they had entered, arms crossed.

When they arrived at the bedroom, James whistled. It was an elliptical room with a huge bed that seemed to take up most of it. There were, as predicted, rose petals but also gourmet chocolate all over the bed and even the floors, as well as an elaborate flower arrangement at the foot of the bed, on top of an ottoman.

“THE DINING ROOM— YES, THERE IS A ROOM FOR IT— IT HAS A TABLE FOR TEN!” Peter shouted.

James smiled. “WELL WE NEED THREE OF THOSE FOR YOUR BIG ARSE, WORMTAIL!” he shouted back, walking out of the room to join the other two. “AND ANOTHER FIVE FOR PADFOOT’S EGO!”

Remus stayed in the bedroom, looking around. He felt sadder the more he looked at it. Sirius didn’t want to stay here with him. ‘Awkward’, he had said. He had known the location of the suite so surely he knew what the bedroom looked like. It would have been romantic even without the roses and the chocolates. And Sirius would rather sleep in a single bed, Remus in another room, than spend the night with him in this bed. Apparently drunken New Years sex wasn’t enticing enough to put up with an accidentally-booked romantic room.

 _I have to stop wanting him this way. What is wrong with me?_ he thought, disappointed in himself.

“MOONY?” James yelled, “COME ON, WE’RE STARTING!”

He tore himself away from the room after letting himself have a few moments of daydreaming of a - wanted - night with Sirius here. He was smiling by the time he entered the room with his friends, making sure they didn’t suspect that he was in any way unhappy.

After two bottles of champagne which had disappeared with alarming speed, none of the boys were eager to go out for food.

“Let’s order in,” James slurred.

Peter nodded in agreement, eyes looking just to the right of James.

“‘K,” Sirius said, looking more sober than the other two. He went into the other room and Remus vaguely heard him order a few deliberate things off the menu and finish the phone call with “And some extra entrées, whatever is good tonight. We’re four but eat like eight.”

After they had an unreasonable amount of food, all boys were mostly sobered up. They decided that they might get asked for ID anyway and if the establishment happened to be a wizarding one, Sirius Confunding wouldn’t help. Instead they emptied the liquor cabinet (and ordered a bottle of Firewhiskey) and spread the bottles around the dining table.

“We’ll play a game,” James declared, standing on the table. “Dare or Dare until we run out of liquor or a person passes out.”

“We’re all going to die,” Peter groaned, looking at the bottles.

Remus had always been quick to get drunk and get sober thanks to his werewolf metabolism but the amount of alcohol they consumed was enough to keep even him drunk. The other three were using sobering potions every now and again to keep their stomachs - and blood stream - sufficiently healthy.

“Wormy,” James stage-whispered, spitting all over Peter as he did so, “WORMY!”

Peter wiped off the spit from the side of his face in disgust. “M’yes?”

“I dare— I dare you to— To steal a woman’s panties and then— And then wear them.”

“What? How? I’ll get arrested.”

“Wooooormy,” James whined, and flopped over on the table, his head hanging down. He giggled. “You’re upside down.”

“You’re upside down,” Peter replied defensively, as if he had been insulted.

James furrowed his eyebrows. “I dared you. Go— go _dare_.”

“But I—”

“You’re an Animagus you git,” Sirius said with a chuckle.

“Oh. Oh right. I am.”

Peter came back wearing a red pair of panties over his trousers. They were ripped slightly to fit.

“There,” he said and sat back down on his chair.

The night continued with similar dares, most of them involving bothering other patrons of the hotel, but Remus didn’t remember most. He remembered how handsome Sirius looked, cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyelashes fluttering beautifully onto them. His lips, wet from his compulsive licking. His eyes, looking at him with warmth whenever they spoke.

As with many of their drunken nights, at some point they got tired of playing and took a break. Sirius went by the window to smoke, Peter laid down to take a kip on the couch, making sure Sirius had set an alarm for just before midnight.

Remus was reading a book that James had stolen when he heard the two boys talk by the window.

“You all right?” James asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said quickly, then took another drag of his cigarette.

“Would you rather have stayed at Hogwarts?” James said carefully, “We can do that next year, you know.”

Sirius looked at James for a moment before turning his gaze back outside. “I thought we would go out is all.”

“We still could,” James offered.

Sirius bit his lip, then shook his head. “We’re all drunk and Peter is knackered.”

“Life can’t always be wild parties, Padfoot my boy,” James said cheerfully but Remus saw worry in his eyes. “Sometimes you’re stuck in a room with three other boys.”

Sirius smiled. “I _am_ stuck in a room with boys. Bloody underage berks.”

James chuckled, and Remus saw his shoulders relax. “Are you worried about Regulus?” James asked.

After taking a deep breath, Sirius shook his head, and continued smoking. “Not until you brought him up just now. Git,” he said around his cigarette. Then he punched James playfully on the shoulder. “I’m sure he will be fine, as long as he’s home. They hate _me_ , not him.

“What _are_ you worried about then?”

“Let’s go back to the dining room. Play some cards.”

Remus blamed his tipsy state for it, but he found that he wasn’t worried about Sirius. He actually was thinking about how handsome he looked when his expression was serious: Eyelids drooped, grey eyes shining beneath them and lips very slightly parted open. Somehow, even his bone structure seemed different when Sirius was not grinning like the goofball that he often was. His cheekbones seemed sharper, all his features more chiseled.

Remus wondered how long until midnight so he could have an excuse to kiss the boy who had been avoiding touching him all night except for if a dare asked for it.

They did kiss at midnight and it was a deep, wonderful kiss. It wasn’t exactly sexy - they were not grinding against each other or moaning - but it made them melt into each other’s arms and hold each other close as their tongues and lips explored the other’s until James had spilled a champagne bucket of water and ice on them.

“Down, boys, down,” he had said, “The night is young yet!”

Sirius had glared and chased James around the suite, shouting words of “sweet, sweet revenge” being his.

Remus grinned. The kiss had been nice, but tonight was about having fun with his friends. He started running after James as well. When Peter joined too, James shouted “Et tu, Brutus?! What did I ever do to you?”

~

It was almost four when James and Peter decided that no amount of sobering potion would help their drowsiness anymore, and left the room. The second they left, Sirius jumped on Remus, surprising the boy and making both of them fall onto the floor.

They got up, not taking their lips off of each other any more than necessary, and stumbled towards the bedroom, taking pieces of clothing off as they went. Remus’ eyes were closed most of the time and he didn’t remember his own name much less where they were, until he felt something dig into his naked thigh.

He opened his eyes and looked down. A wrapped piece of chocolate, its corner scratching his leg. He frowned.

Sirius was kissing his way down Remus’ chest with the appetite of a starved man, but Remus was too distracted to let himself enjoy it. He looked around the room, remembering again how Sirius had not wanted to be with him here tonight.

The raven-haired boy got on top of him and pressed their cocks together, hissing at the sensation. He gasped as he ground his body against Remus’, planting kisses and soft bites wherever his mouth could reach.

Remus wanted to stop and didn’t, at the same time. He felt sick with the knowledge that Sirius was only there with him because he was drunk, but his body wanted Sirius as much as it always did. Maybe more, thanks to the alcohol in his system.

“Stop,” Remus said, pushing Sirius off of him as gently as he could. Sirius flopped over in the large bed, next to Remus.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t drunk enough to slur his words or have crossed eyes, but he definitely was drunk enough to have trouble focusing on Remus’ eyes.

“You’re drunk,” Remus said sternly.

“You’re a freak who destroys alcohol,” Sirius responded with a frown, “You’re a bottomless pit and thank Merlin you’re not an alcoholic because we would all be broke trying - and failing - to feed your addiction.”

“I don’t want to shag when you’re like this,” Remus insisted, hoping Sirius would decide to wank and go to sleep instead.

Instead, Sirius summoned a potion bottle. Before he drank it, he turned to Remus with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t drink nearly as much as the other two, you know,” he said. He tilted back the bottle and within seconds, his eyes were clear and he truly did not look drunk.

“More sobering up potion?”

“Yeah, not that I needed it,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Since the last one I only had two glasses of wine.”

“There must be a limit to how much of it can be consumed in a day before you hurt yourself and get poisoned from the potion.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

Remus didn’t know what to say.

‘ _I don’t want meaningless sex with you’?_

_‘I hate that you didn’t want to be here with me until Prongs teased us’?_

_‘I want you to be here, present, enjoying this romantic room with me’?_

_‘I want to bury my head in this pillow and wait to die so I don’t have to live with this embarrassment that I am feeling now’?_

_‘I want a relationship’?_

“I want— I love you,” he stuttered. It was out there, now. He should feel relieved or scared or— something. But he felt as if time had stopped. His heart clenched but it wasn’t painful, somehow. He just stared at Sirius, breathless. He felt numb, but not in a bad way. Suspended in time, almost as if he was safe from whatever Sirius may or may not say. He was not scared of what Sirius’ reaction would be, because time was still.

“You love me,” Sirius repeated, as if considering this new piece of information. His brows furrowed. “You love me like James loves Lily?”

“I— er— I think his affections are not quite legal. I’m quite sure _stalking_ is the word Aurors use.”

“But you love me,” Sirius said impatiently, “You want with me what James wants with Lily? What Frank has with Alice?”

“I… Yes?” Remus said, confused by Sirius’ demanding tone. This was far from how he imagined his confession going. It would either be butterflies and roses and sparks or complete rejection from Sirius, he had thought. This was something else. Did Sirius not believe him?

“You want to go on dates with me, hold my hand, cuddle on the common room, whisper sweet nothings into my ear?”

“Er— I…” He was at a loss for words. He hadn’t anticipated having to explain his feelings as if Sirius had never heard of the word ‘love’ before. “I suppose.”

“You want to kiss me in front of everyone and tell them to bugger off because I’m yours?” He sounded dubious. The more he talked, the more confused Remus got and eventually his confusion started to turn into anger. Was Sirius taking the piss?

The werewolf nodded, trying to stay calm. Maybe the dark-haired boy just needed time to process the unexpected piece of information. Maybe he was still drunk.

Sirius, instead of taking the affirmative gesture as a ‘yes’ and moving on, prodded further. “You want to kiss _nobody else_ at all? Only me?” He paused. “Because you love me?” he elaborated his question.

“Yes,” the werewolf said in a quick whisper, then shifted uncomfortably and made to get up from the bed. He could feel his blush deepen and hoped the room was dark enough for Sirius not to see the extent of his embarrassment. What had possessed him to come out to Sirius Black, of all people? Had he not seen enough people laughed off by him?

Sirius held him down by his wrist and spun him around, pressing their lips together urgently. Confused but not about to deny Sirius a kiss, Remus responded immediately. They kissed for a few short seconds before Sirius drew back and spoke. Remus could feel Sirius’ lips moving against his as he spoke, and it sent shivers down his spine.

“Thank fuck,” Sirius said.

“Uh…” Remus said, unsure how to answer. He opened his eyes and saw that Sirius’ were still shut. He wondered how ‘thank fuck’ was an appropriate response to ‘I love you’. Then again, when was Sirius ever appropriate? 

Then Sirius’ lips were pressed against his once again and he wondered nothing at all until they parted once more. This time, Sirius actually leaned back far enough so that Remus was taking in fresh air again, their breath no longer mingled. He looked at the raven-haired boy as he leaned back further, onto his elbows, and grinned at the ceiling. He looked dangerously like as if he had come up with a brilliant prank plan. Those plans often ended with detention and Remus couldn’t begin to imagine what plan idea their kiss or his confession might have sparked. A Love Potion mixed into the school pumpkin juice supply?

“I feel you need to elaborate,” Remus said, cursing himself internally for sounding like McGonagall. Sirius looked lost in a daydream and didn’t respond for several moments. Then a thought occurred to the werewolf. “Did you think I wanted to stop shagging?” he asked, “And you’re relieved that I don’t?”

“What?” Sirius asked, snapped out of his daydream, his goofy grin wiped off. “No, no, no, Moony,” he said, then his smile creeped back up. “Well, maybe partially, but that’s not why I said ‘thanks’.”

“You said ‘thank fuck’,” Remus corrected.

Sirius barked out a laugh. That stupid, attractive, deep laugh that Remus tried not to get too distracted by. “So I did,” he agreed. He licked his lips and looked at Remus with what the werewolf could only describe as fondness. “I am very glad you love me.”

“See, you say things, Sirius,” Remus said with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, “And you _think_ they make sense but they don’t. Not to anybody who isn’t named James Potter.”

Sirius let out another happy laugh and Remus began to wonder if there was a big, glaringly obvious joke that he just wasn’t getting. He frowned in confusion while the raven-haired boy looked at him as if the werewolf were a cute puppy. ‘I’m a werewolf’ he wanted to mutter, but thought better of it and stopped himself.

“It’s been killing me,” Sirius explained, smiling uncharacteristically gently, “I thought you only wanted sex and, well, I was more than happy to give it, but…” His voice trailed off and he raised a hand to make a gesture to suggest there was more to what he was saying.

“Do _you_ want from me what James wants from Lily?”

“We don’t have to speak in code, Moony. We’ve already said the word.”

“Well, I have.”

There was that laugh again. Remus wanted to scowl. In Sirius’ defense, the boy did sound honestly relieved. Happy, in fact, as if he had been hoping for Remus to confess for ages. Maybe he had. But no, surely not… If Sirius Black wanted someone, he went out and got them. Why would he wait for Remus to make a move? And there was the whole Marlene debacle…

Either Sirius had read his mind (or, more likely, puzzled face) or had been thinking about the same thing, because when he began to speak again, Sirius answered the unspoken question.

“I’ve been in love with you for—” He paused and looked upwards, lips moving as if he were counting in his head. “Merlin, I don’t know how long.” He grinned sheepishly at Remus again, who was now staring at him, mouth parted open in a surprised ‘o’. “I didn’t want to tell you because you seemed to be enjoying yourself and bloody hell I wasn’t about to mess up a good thing now, was I? ‘Please Remus stop giving me blowies before Transfiguration, I want to cuddle instead’?”

It was Remus’ turn to be skeptical. “You’re—in love with me,” he said slowly. “We love each other,” he repeated, as if trying to memorize a new incantation.

“It appears we do, Mssr. Moony,” Sirius said happily.

“And that means…” Remus started but didn’t end the sentence. Holding hands? Going on dates? All the cliche’ things Sirius did with his—

“Wait— You were telling Marlene how you could stare into her eyes for days, how she made you shiver in anticipation when she walked into a room, how her kisses tasted like honey, and—”

“Did you memorize what I said to her, Moony?” Sirius said, looking as embarrassed as Sirius Black could.

Remus blushed. “Something like that, anyway,” he added lamely, pretending not to remember every word Sirius had uttered.

“Jealous, Moony?” the taller boy asked, amused. His eyes still looked shy, so Remus knew better than to let him change the subject.

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“You didn’t ask anything,” he sighed, looking away.

“Why were you declaring your undying love to McKinnon if you’re in love with me?” The werewolf had meant to sound accusatory, even angry perhaps, but in the end his voice was quiet and slightly desperate.

“I wasn’t— Moony I never said I _loved_ her,” he sighed.

“You sure sounded like it. I think you even quoted a poem or two to Prewett last month.” As he spoke, Remus’ frown grew deeper. He remembered all the sweet things Sirius told his flings. He was not about to be tricked like a random student who didn’t know Sirius. He wouldn’t fall for his charms.

Assuming he hadn’t already, of course.

“I—” Sirius paused and took a deep breath, straightening his back. “Promise you won’t laugh at me.”

“I promise no such thing,” Remus said instinctively, then corrected himself. “Er— I mean, I won’t laugh, Pads. What is it?”

“I spoke like that because I wanted to tell those things to _you_ but I couldn’t. Didn’t you notice that my eyes were closed most of the time? When I told Marlene her eyes were beautiful, my head was buried in her shoulder and I was thinking of _your_ eyes.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t say anything to _you_ of course on the account of not wanting you to stop sleeping with me because I’m a big girl’s blouse.”

“You love me too,” Remus repeated, believing it this time. He felt light as air. It felt better than their first kiss, better than the first time he had seen Hogwarts— It felt better than anything. It was flying without the danger of falling, swimming without the possibility of drowning, warmth without fire; all the joys of life with no downside. He knew it wasn’t really like that, but it felt that way. He felt as if he had been thrown up and was floating without a broom.

Ever logical, Remus could not just lose himself in emotion. Something occurred to him. What did this mean, practically speaking?

“Wait, does this change anything?” he asked quickly. He was about the rephrase the question to ask something more sensible but Sirius beat him to it.

“Of course it does,” he said quickly, “It means we’re together now.” He raised an eyebrow. “No more dates with Ravenclaw boffins.”

Remus grinned. “I don’t know what you think we get up to in the library, Sirius, but two hours of revising Runes or Arithmancy does not, unlike what you might imagine, turn me on.”

“Not true,” Sirius said with an accusing finger pointed at the werewolf, “I saw you practically _swoon_ when that one berk was going over the Runes questions with you.”

Remus blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what Sirius might mean.

“Outside the classroom, after your OWL exam,” Sirius said impatiently, “Blond chap?”

 _Ah_. He knew who Sirius meant, now. The werewolf mumbled incoherently, blushing. Then, finding his voice again, he repeated, slightly louder: “He was _reading_ Elder Futhark. Out loud.” His tone suggested that this was akin to having an Order of Merlin, First Class.

“Yes, well, none of that now,” Sirius said quickly. Remus got the impression that this had been bothering Sirius. “Even the fact that you are blushing over it right now is quite offensive to your gorgeous boyfriend.”

Remus grinned. _Boyfriend_. It was childish and girly but he loved the sound of it nevertheless. “I can’t help it if foreign languages interest me, Padfoot,” he teased.

“Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas dit cela?” Sirius asked, amused.

Thoroughly confused, the werewolf’s eyes widened as he scrambled for words. “I— French?”

“Mais bien sûr!” Sirius laughed, “‘Toujours Pur’, and all that.”

“What did you say?” Remus whispered, not even attempting to hide how impressed he was.

“Well,” Sirius said slowly, thinking back to what he had said. “First I said something along the lines of ‘why didn’t you say so?’ and then I said ‘but of course’.” His tone was so casual he could have been Remus’ mam telling Lyall to pick up more milk on the way home. Not at all like somebody who had just spoken - from what Remus could tell - fluent French.

“I didn’t know you could speak French!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Moony,” Sirius said and gave him a rakish grin. “I like to keep an aura of mystery, you know.”

Remus snorted. “You don’t know what mystery _means_ Padfoot.” It was true, Sirius was never one for secretive schemes or mystery. They had gotten detention more than once because Sirius could not keep quiet about a prank.

“Mystère,” Sirius said, the French rolling off of his tongue almost more smoothly than English.

The light-brown-haired boy shuddered, making Sirius laugh again. Remus didn’t know what was affecting him more: The French or that delicious laugh.

 _I am so gone,_ he thought, _There is absolutely no hope for me._

“Look at you,” Sirius whispered, getting closer and bringing them eye-to-eye. “You are turned on by it, aren’t you? Look at your pupils.”

Remus turned his head to the side to avert his case but Sirius held his chin and caught his eyes again. His happy grin was replaced with a hint of fascination and a lot of lust, now. “Regarde toi…” he said, unable to think of a new sentence just then. To his delight, the werewolf made a low growling sound. Sirius covered Remus’ lips with his own, trying to catch his growl. The soft brush of lips quickly turned into tumbling on the sheets and moaning into each other’s mouths, hands roaming every inch they could reach.

The next twenty minutes were spent having the most sensual sex Remus could ever recall them having. They had done and tried many things, but this was different. There was more than lust now, and no sense of urgency. They took their time. Sirius spoke French throughout the whole experience, effectively turning Remus into putty in his hands. They looked at each other often too, and every time Sirius’ eyes caught Remus’, he saw nothing but affection and desire in them. No mischief, no burying his head in Remus’ neck to hide his expression. The raven-haired boy made a point to keep looking at the werewolf, giving him kisses and reassurances as they made love.

 _‘Made love’_ , Remus thought as they lay lazily on the bed afterwards, laughing internally at himself, _What a poof I am._

He looked over at his boyfriend, who was scratching a scab on his left arm distractedly. His long eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks every now and again and Remus’ gaze followed them, then went further onto his perfect cheekbones, flushed cheeks, big, pouting lips,… Perfection. He let out of a content sigh.

Sirius shot Remus a quick glance before returning his gaze onto his arm. “Enjoying the view?” he asked, smiling.

“Say what you will about inbreeding,” Remus said happily, “It sure doesn’t hurt looks, apparently.”

“Actually, sometimes it does,” Sirius said airily, “I have one truly hideous cousin.”

“Really?” Remus asked, interested. It was true, for Muggles incest was frowned upon mostly due to the genetic issues it could cause.

“Nah, not really,” the raven-haired boy laughed, “I mean I _have_ had some ugly relatives but nobody as close as a cousin. Purebloods are a small bunch but there’s enough of us that it’s usually not a direct issue. Worst could be a Squib, but those are disowned pretty swiftly.”

“So you can’t go either way,” Remus said seriously, “Too little magic, you get disowned. Too good a wizard, you defect.”

“Precisely, my love,” Sirius said, looking up at Remus with a big smile, then planted another kiss on his chin.

They laid down, content in each other’s arms, for a while before a question kept coming up in Remus’ mind and he couldn’t help but ask.  
“Sirius?”

“Mm?” the taller boy said, not opening his eyes.

“Why didn’t you want to spend the night with me?”

Sirius’ eyes blinked open. “What?” he asked, confusion written all over his face.

“When— When we arrived, you tried to send me off with Peter.”

“Oh,” he said sheepishly, blushing. “I was—” He licked his lips nervously. “I actually _planned_ this.”

“You planned this?”

“Sort of. I mean— I thought we were going to go out and when we came here drunk, I was going to bring you here and…” He let his voice trail off before continuing. “I thought you would appreciate the chocolates, I asked for extra.”

“You made them prepare a honeymoon suite,” Remus said slowly, trying to understand, “But then you wanted me to be with Peter in it?”

Sirius threw his head back and groaned in frustration at himself. “No. I just— We were all supposed to be tired from a night of partying and nobody but you was supposed to notice. And I thought maybe… I thought I would look at your reaction when you saw, and see if you were up for it. If not, I was going to laugh it off as a mistake. If you were, well…” He gestured at their naked entwined bodies.

Remus grinned, and started stroking Sirius’ hair. “You have put a lot of thought into this.”

“I have. You make me a right sap, Remus Lupin.” Then, after a pause, he said: “I love you” with the excitement of a little boy having learned his first curse word or a first-year his first spell. His tone was almost naughty, as if he was getting away with something secret, doing something he hadn’t been allowed to do before. In a way, he hadn’t.

“I love you too,” Remus whispered and pressed their lips together. He couldn’t help but take advantage of Sirius in his vulnerable state. “So I ‘make you shiver when I walk into a room’?” he teased, recalling what Sirius had told Marlene McKinnon. He expected a playful punch or elbow, and laughter from Sirius.

Instead, the raven-haired boy looked at him fondly, and his smile grew. “You do,” he said simply. Honestly. “You make my body shiver and my heart flutter. You make me understand why men write poems.”

“Women write poems too,” Remus whispered sheepishly, not knowing how to answer Sirius.

Sirius chuckled, not offended, and planted a quick peck on Remus’ shoulder.

Remus had never been one for poetic language despite his love of reading, and had no idea what to say. “I love you,” he blurted out, getting a purr out of Sirius. Then, Sirius kissed him long and hard.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” the raven-haired boy said, and they went back to kissing until they fell asleep.

 

**_Now my feet don't touch the ground_ **

**_You throw me up, won't let me down_ **

**_I can spend my life without a care_ **

**_With a feeling that there's somethin' in the air_ **

_Something in the Air - Seafret_


	11. Young Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hand to heart, I have no idea why I am having so much trouble writing MWPP-era fluff. I keep flashing forward and writing scenes from their adulthood. Gah. At least this means once they are out of Hogwarts the chapters will come faster! Thank you for your patience and lovely comments. :)

**Year Six, Spring/Summer, 1977**

 

**_Just like a wrecking ball_ **

**_Has come and set us free_ **

**_The kind of love that’ll blind you_ **

**_But you’ll never see_ **

**_Now my feet don’t touch the ground_ **

**_You throw me up_ **

**_Won’t let me down_ **

**_I can spend my life without a care_ **

**_With a feeling that there’s something in the air_ **

_Something in the Air - Seafret_

 

Looking back to Spring of sixth year, Remus could scarcely remember any bad memories, not when it came to his relationship with Sirius at any rate. If you asked him, as an adult, if he could return to any moment, any point in time, it would be Spring of 1977. James and Lily were alive and happy, on the edge of finally becoming amiable and building a relationship. Peter was sweet and caring, not a traitor, not yet. And Sirius... Sirius was perfect.  _They_ were perfect. In retrospect, Remus would see several issues that he had been blinded to at the time, too dazzled by love, but regardless he could not think of a happier time in his life.

 

Remus woke up twice during the night. Both times, a sleepy Sirius grunted in displeasure when he got up to pee and was waiting for him, holding the blanket open, when he returned. And both times the werewolf was startled at the sight for a moment before his whole body relaxed and all he could think about was how amazing this felt.

When he woke up fully, in what he thought was the morning, he didn’t open his eyes right away. Sirius’ arm was draped over his side so he moved his shoulder ever-so-slightly, trying to stretch without waking the other boy up. Before any real thought formed in his mind, he felt soft lips press against his.

“Good morning, boyfriend,” Sirius whispered after the short kiss.

Remus, trying and failing to not smile, groaned in mock annoyance. “Merlin, what have I done?”

“Whatever do you mean, boyfriend?” Sirius asked, sounding much too happy for somebody who had drunk an inhumane amount of alcohol the night before.

“Are you ever going to call me anything else from now on?” Remus asked, finally opening his eyes and looking at Sirius who was holding his head up on one hand, elbow propped up against his pillow. He looked very pleased with himself as he ran his other hand up and down Remus’ side.

Sirius pretended to consider Remus’ question for a moment before answering. “No,” he declared in the end, “Probably not.” He gave Remus another, longer, kiss. “Boyfriend,” he added, for emphasis.

“You are ridiculous and you have morning breath,” Remus said with a sigh.

Sirius huffed and responded in the form of a long, open-mouthed kiss that, despite the smelly breath, Remus answered enthusiastically.

“Boyfriend,” Sirius reaffirmed. Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

They didn’t get a chance to say much else before a paper plane came whizzing through the door and started poking Sirius’ head. Its head kept getting crumpled up, but neither Sirius nor the paper plane seemed to mind. Sirius didn’t even glance at it. Remus raised an eyebrow and watched it pull back and hit Sirius’ forehead repeatedly.

“Did you sleep well?” Sirius asked airily.

“I think James has something to say,” Remus said, instead of answering.

Sirius shrugged. “Doesn’t he always?” The paper plane seemed to be offended as it was now flying back further each time and hitting Sirius’ face as hard as it could.

“You’re going to get a paper cut.”

“Mmm,” Sirius said, but still refused to look at the note, focusing his sight instead of Remus’ right hip, specifically a cluster of freckles on it. He ran his fingers on it, seemingly lost in thought.

“On your face. Your perfect face will be marred by a cut.” Surely Sirius would react to that. Sometimes Sirius would stare at his own reflection for so long that Remus had wondered more than once if Sirius would ever ask him to take Polyjuice Potion to turn into himself.

“Scars are cool,” Sirius said impishly, looking back at Remus’ face. “’ll make me look more dangerous.”

Finally giving up on Sirius, Remus grabbed the note and read it out loud.

“Padfoot,

“Stop shagging, for the sake of my eyes that have already seen too much. We’ll be there in twenty, ordered up breakfast to arrive ten minutes after that.

“Prongs”

When Remus put the parchment down with an amused smile, he saw that Sirius was staring at him with the same determined look that he gave James when they had a particularly evil prank brewing.

“Do I dare ask?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Let’s give him something to see, show him what ‘too much’ is,” Sirius said and started kissing Remus’ neck.

Remus tilted his head and allowed Sirius to plant his soft kisses, but didn’t move otherwise. “You must be too hungover to have sex _now_ ,” he pointed out.

“We’ll see about that,” Sirius said happily and jumped on top of Remus. As soon as he was on top of him, on all fours, his grin disappeared and left its place to a frown. “I drank sobering potion,” he complained. He looked like he was about to throw up.  
“Which still doesn’t undo everything that has happened to your stomach. You should know that by now,” Remus said, running his fingers through Sirius’ draping hair locks gently.

Sirius made an annoyed noise and looked down at his body as if it was offending him.

Remus patted Sirius’ shoulder and pulled him down, slowly laying him back down by his side. “It’s alright Padfoot, we’ll have time later. Almost time to go back to school.”

“Tell that to _him_ ,” Sirius said angrily, looking down at his erect cock.

“You know what, I will,” Remus said airily and shuffled around until he was between Sirius’ legs, face nestled in his crotch. He rubbed his nose against the other boy’s happy trail and spent a bit of time just enjoying the sensation of his pubic hair brushing against his cheek.

“Having fun there, Moony?” Sirius asked, now propped up on his elbows and looking down at Remus with an amused smile.

“We’re getting acquainted,” Remus said happily and knew that Sirius would feel his lips move on his crotch, right above his cock which was begging for attention.

“You’ve met him before, I think, you tease,” Sirius said dryly.

“You have no manners, Padfoot,” Remus huffed, but was grinning when he looked up at Sirius. “You can’t just not at least say hi before…”

“Before what?” Sirius said, voice quieter now that his sleepy brain was catching up with Remus’ intentions.

“This,” Remus said simply and in a second had all of Sirius in his mouth, pushing against his throat. He immediately started licking the base and sucking as hard as he could, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck— Merlin— Remus you— Aah—” Sirius babbled as he moved one of his legs involuntarily, pushing his foot into the mattress. Remus chuckled in response and was rewarded with a deep moan as his chuckle vibrated through the raven-haired boy’s penis.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to finish. Sirius offered to reciprocate but Remus told him that he didn’t fancy sick on his penis and he would rather wait a bit and have some more fun after breakfast.

After a quick shower, they walked out to the armchairs close to the dining room. It had taken Remus a full minute to convince Sirius to put on pants, but he was thankfully not naked when James and Peter walked in.

“They accommodate wizards,” Peter was saying to James as they entered the room as if it were empty, “That is my only point. How can a simple Alohomora open these doors?”

James shrugged. “If a wizard wants to come in, they will. Why should they bother with specific protection spells every time a wizard stays over? Not like the Ritz is a hot spot for Death Eater raids.”

At the mention of Death Eaters, both Peter and Remus got uncomfortable, although Peter more visibly so.

“Mornin’ Prongsy, mornin’ Wormy,” Sirius said cheerfully, swishing his wand around and making the Muggle portrait in front of him change colors randomly.

“It worked then, Padfoot?” James asked with a grin, flopping down onto an armchair close to the one Sirius was sitting in.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and looked at James for a while. Remus watched as they had their silent conversation: James looked delighted and mischievous as if he had just learned a new spell that would be used for nefarious purposes. Sirius looked confused, then irritated, then resigned without malice. An occurrence that only ever happened with James: Sirius would never accept defeat to anybody else. He rolled his eyes at James before turning his eyes back onto the Muggle painting.

“Bloody Legilimens,” he muttered.

“You weren’t being subtle, Padfoot,” James said, and gave a very quick glance at Remus who was pointedly looking at Peter taking out a deck of cards and NOT at the two dark-haired boys.

Sirius hummed instead of answering, but his expression showed that he was puzzled by how James knew.

“Padfoot you got them to put chocolates all over the room,” James said and Remus could hear that he was trying very hard not to burst out into laughter.

“It was a mix-up,” Sirius said quickly, but didn’t put much energy into the lie.

James snorted. “Sure, and Snivellus showers daily,” he said, waving off Sirius’ weak attempt at a cover-up. “And seeing as how Moony hasn’t burned your hair off and you’re not sulking in a corner, I gather it worked,” he added.

Peter’s attention was finally dragged into the conversation as he sorted the deck. He looked up at James. “What’s going on? What about Moony?”

“This wanker finally grew a pair and asked him out,” James said, chipper.

“Oi,” Sirius complained, but didn’t say more.

“You know you are!” Peter said with a grin, “Your pining was getting so bad it was getting worse than Prongs with Evans.” He went back to sorting the cards with a smile on his face.

“At least I pulled,” Sirius said with a shrug, frowning. His tone was nonchalant but Remus saw how tense his shoulders and neck were, and wondered how Sirius Black was embarrassed by a few teasing words from friends.

Remus was mortified in humiliation over the conversation, but _he_ was used to that feeling. It didn’t take much to embarrass the werewolf. But it was odd, seeing Sirius like this. Then he saw Sirius cast him a momentary worried glance and realized that Sirius was nervous because of _him_. Sirius felt embarrassed that this conversation was happening in front of Remus. Because he cared what Remus thought of him.

The werewolf’s grin got away from him before he could think to control his expression. It was so wide he wondered if it looked like James’ Pranking Grin, almost splitting his face into two. He felt the dull ache on the crooked side, his lips trying to curve up higher but his scar stopping it. He walked over to Sirius, not even feeling his feet move below him. Sirius looked up at him and Remus took the chance to delve down into a quick but passionate kiss.

When they broke away, James groaned in fake disgust. “Is this what it’s going to be like, from now on? Snogging in front of us before even breakfast is served?”

“You’ll be lucky if it’s only snogging,” Remus said, making Peter and Sirius laugh and James roll his eyes.

After that, it was like floodgates opening and the sea calming down after a storm all at once. Remus felt an immense sense of peace, mixed with unparalleled excitement that only your first love can give. Every breath he took with Sirius in the room hitched a little, but his body had never felt so relaxed before; like he belonged in his skin, finally. He had heard Frank tell Alice they fit like a puzzle piece and he finally, finally understood what he had meant. Sirius’ body hadn’t changed much, neither had Remus’, but somehow they _fit_ now, in a way they hadn’t before. Their touches were full of affection and even the air around them felt different, somehow. 

He was intoxicated and felt as if he had drank a batch of Euphoria Elixir every morning he woke up, the knowledge of being with Sirius making his chest ache in the most wonderful way. He smiled so much on that first of January that his jaw literally ached the whole day after.

 _How do James and Sirius smile so often when it hurts this bloody much?_ he wondered as he had lunch the next day, at home. Not that he minded the ache at all, not when the reason for his smiles was Sirius.

~

Even before Sirius started shouting out for him, Remus knew that the boy was on the train. It was quite fascinating how a single seventeen-year-old could make as much noise as he did, stomping around the train.

“Ow! Watch it!”

What sounded like a heavy trunk being pushed aside.

“That was my FOOT you imbecile!”

Something - a door? - slamming and sound of metal clinking.

“ _Incendio!_ ”

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

“You can _not_ start a fight in the middle of the train! You can’t start a fight anywhere! I _will_ start taking points off!” Argus sounded more tired than angry.

The unmistakeable sound of an owl screeching.

More sounds of things falling and people cursing as Sirius Black wrecked havoc, rushing through the narrow, crowded walkway of the train.

Remus couldn’t help but smile.

“MOONY!” came the exasperated cry, finally. Remus’ grin grew, but he didn’t take his eyes off of his book. He had long ago stopped reading, but was itching with excitement at the thought of looking unperturbed when his boyfriend came bursting through the door of the compartment he had taken. “MOOOONY!”

That anticipation - followed with Sirius’ grand entrance - would be yet another thing always stuck in Remus’ mind, years later. His heart beating faster, Sirius coming in, offended at the sight of Remus being away from him… It felt so _right_. This is how they were meant to be. Young and together and full of happiness. The Hogwarts train was a place of reunion or plans to meet up over the summer. A place full joy. Not to be tainted by bad thoughts and raided by Dementors.

That day, 3rd of January 1977, the Hogwarts train gifted Remus with one of his favorite moods of Sirius: Adorably flustered.

The compartment door was thrown open violently as two dark-haired boys made their way in. Sirius, cheeks flushed (from running, presumably), looked shocked when he saw Remus sitting by the window, hands grazing over his book.

“I _told you_ he wasn’t dead,” James said, deadpan, and gave a nod to Remus in greeting.

“Hey James, hey Sirius,” Remus said softly, putting his book down by his side and trying to keep his face as devoid of amusement as he could.

“‘HEY JAMES’? ‘HEY SIRIUS’?” Sirius bellowed as if Remus had just suggested that he make out with the Giant Squid.

James seemed less disturbed, but he still wasn’t sitting down and looking around the compartment curiously, as if he was expecting something interesting to happen like a pixie jumping out of one of the corners.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Need more attention?” he joked, “‘Hello, love of my life, sun of my earth, ying to my yang, my—”

“Why are you _here_?” Sirius growled, a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“I go to Hogwarts, and this train takes me there,” Remus said slowly, deliberately ignoring what Sirius was really asking. He wanted to know why Remus wasn’t at their usual spot.

Sirius let out an impatient noise. James chuckled.

“Lover boy lost it when you weren’t in our compartment. Was convinced you had been dragged away by a Death Eater, lying in a ditch somewhere.”

“That is _not_ what I said, Potter,” Sirius growled.

“Do you really want me to repeat what you said?” James responded, way too amused for Remus not to be curious. But the werewolf kept quiet. If he gave in, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy flustered Sirius any more.

Sirius looked like he was about to hex James - proven by the fact that his fingers were twitching over his wand-pocket - but James spoke before he could.

“Why aren’t you there, anyway?” he asked Remus.

Remus shrugged. “There was a group of second years there,” he said.

“Insolent, good-for-nothing, molly-coddled kids who think they can just go in and take anything as if they own the world,” Sirius ranted, sounding more sure of himself and his rant as he went along, “We oughta teach ’em respect for the elderly.”

“Are you saying we’re ‘elderly’, Sirius?” Remus said, unable to stop a chuckle from escaping.

“You _do_ have a few white hairs, Moony,” James said, voice chipper, and was rewarded with a slap on the back of the neck by Sirius.

“Not a word against my Moony,” he said simply. Then, his angry voice returned as he turned towards the door. “Come now, comrades,” he said, looking down the corridor. “I see Wormy has graced us with his presence too, by the looks of it. Let’s go and teach those secondies a lesson or two.”

The two dark-haired boys left the compartment but lingered close to the door, expecting the werewolf to follow them, no doubt.

As expected, Sirius’ head poked in a few seconds later. “Come on Moony,” he said, grinning, “Or are you not going to get out until I snog you senseless?” Remus snorted. “Is that why you picked the compartment here? To be alone with me?” His eyes grew larger as if he had revealed a secret passage. “Is that it? Because I can arrange that, you know…” he added with a thoughtful look at the corridor.

Remus waved him off. “I’m coming now, in a minute.” He got up and started putting his book in his bag.

Sirius frowned. “But Moooooony,” he whined and Remus was once again - would he ever not be? - surprised by how charismatic and rakish Sirius was, even when he was whining like a little boy. On anybody else, the sound would be pathetic. When Sirius Black had a whine in his tone, it sounded like he should be kissed immediately and thoroughly.

Remus resisted the urge.

“I need to haul my things over. ’sides, I’m still a Prefect, you know. I probably shouldn’t see whatever you are going to do to those poor boys.”

“Insolent kids, we’ve been over this,” Sirius said but he was smiling, and he disappeared afterwards.

“For the love of— BLACK stop stomping you almost took off Longbottom’s cat’s tail— JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER IF YOU SO MUCH AS THINK ABOUT TOUCHING MY BAG I WILL HEX YOU INTO NEXT WEEK!”

“You know my middle name,” James said dreamily.

“Don’t sound so excited, Prongs, it’s nothing to be proud of,” Sirius snorted. Remus couldn’t hear the rest as they were too far away by then.

He took as long as he could packing and very slowly walked out towards their compartment. He couldn’t hear any commotion anymore but the boys had definitely left their mark as they went through. He helped up a fourth year who was still sitting on the floor, an upside down book in her hand, as if she had been Stunned.

When he reached the compartment, the second-years were nowhere to be seen and his three friends looked mighty pleased with themselves. He rolled his eyes and sat down next to Peter as that was the closest seat. He honestly had not even been trying to tease Sirius, so he was not expecting the ‘retaliation’ that came.

“OI!” he shouted as he felt himself levitated across the small room. Sirius pulled him down and sat him next to himself.

“You’re not staying away from me,” Sirius whispered and gave him a quick, chaste kiss that made Remus’ heart flutter. “It’s been long enough.” After that, the raven-haired boy delved into a deep kiss. Remus would never, ever have enough of this.

“Merlin…” James sighed, but the werewolf barely registered the sound or the dark fog that now separated them and James and Peter.

Sirius and Remus snogged until they were both panting and their lips were swollen. Feeling the slight pain on his lips, Remus laughed. “We haven’t kissed like that in years, I think.”

“Are you telling me I kiss like a novice, Lupin?” Sirius said in mock-offense, and ran a few fingers down Remus’ hair, placing some loose strands behind his hair. They fell off immediately after, being too short.

“I’m saying my lips hurt,” Remus laughed, “We usually have more restraint.”

“I missed you,” Sirius said, shrugging. Then he waved his wand to make the fog go away. As the fog lifted, Remus saw that both Peter and James had their eyes closed.

“Is it safe? Wormy is it safe?”

“ _I’m_ not going to look!” Peter squeaked.  
“Take one for the team, mate,” James said gravely.

“ _You_ take one for the team. I will never recover from that time when you asked me to get Sirius from the locker room.”

“How could I have known what he was doing in there?!”

“I don’t care, I—”

“Calm down,” Remus said dryly, “We’re only shagging, you can open your eyes. Nothing you haven’t seen before. Maybe you’ll learn a move or two.”

James made a whining sound. “I know you’re joking,” he said, “But I am scared.”

Sirius laughed. “Mate, it’s fine. I don’t think I have the energy to even kiss any more.”

The rest of the ride went much like their earlier ones: Planning pranks, moaning about detentions they had to serve, paused for the holidays. The only difference was that now Sirius and Remus were always touching in small ways. Their thighs brushing or their shoulders touching or, once or twice, one boy’s arm around the other’s shoulders. It felt comfortable and right, without taking away from the Marauder chatter. It wasn’t awkward like that one time Peter’s girlfriend had accompanied them on the train ride. They had spent the time either kissing or Peter explaining jokes to her when she complained about being left out.

 _Benefits to dating one of your best friends,_ Remus thought happily.

Life with the Marauders - particularly the two dark-haired boys - was _never_ routine or boring. They always managed to surprise everybody around them including themselves. At this point, almost nothing managed to spook or startle the group. Jinxing the chair they were sitting on, even if the boy had been concentrating on something else, was met only with a groan, not a yelp of surprise. They were prepared for the unprepared, as much as one could be.

And yet, Remus most definitely was not ready for what happened when they entered the Great Hall for the feast.

They had lingered behind slightly, James and Sirius messing with some First Years by untying their shoelaces or making them hear bee noises while Peter negotiated with Peeves for a prank plan they had going. When they finally arrived at the Hall, almost all the seats were already filled, and the Professors were sitting down to eat as the students had been safely led into the castle.

Sirius took a step away from James and towards Remus, and held his hand. The werewolf blushed. He hadn’t thought that they would hide their relationship, but it still felt unreal and was very, very new. This was them becoming official in the eyes of the school. Because when Sirius Black walked into a room, people looked. There was no way the whole school wouldn’t know within hours.

Then Sirius made it clear that he hadn’t held Remus’ hand just to, well, hold his hand. He pulled Remus to him and put his other hand firmly on his back. He then proceeded to snog the werewolf thoroughly while pushing his back to hold him as close as possible. Remus would have objected out of embarrassment but Sirius had a way of kissing that killed brain-cells, apparently, because Remus felt stupider every time their lips touched. Maybe after a few years of this, he would be a blubbering mess, following Sirius around wordlessly, only able to think of kissing and fucking Sirius. He hoped he passed his NEWTs before that happened.

That didn’t sound like a terrible future, though.

 _“After a few years”,_ Remus thought to himself when the snog had ended and he could properly think again, _Aren’t I presumptuous? Who knows how long this will last?_ But even as he said the words, Remus couldn’t imagine a world where he and Sirius were not together. Not any more.

~

“Do I look all right?” Remus heard Sirius ask as he slowly walked up the stairs to the dormitory.

“You look like something Wormtail drew with his left hand,” came James’ dry reply.

“Why me and not yourself?” Peter asked, innocently confused after all these years.

“Even my left-handed work is brilliant,” James said happily, “I had to make the point that Sirius is a minger.” He paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “And a git.”

“You are so good to me, Jamie,” Sirius said with fake cheer, but Remus thought Sirius was trying to act less annoyed than he really was.

“Mate,” James said, and Remus heard something falling onto the floor. “You’re just hanging out with Moony. Relax. For some unfathomable reason that boy has seen you puking out your guts in the dorm room while simultaneously trying to recite the alphabet backwards and he still lets you kiss him. I don’t think you could look bad enough to put him off if you _tried_.”

Remus felt rude eavesdropping any further, so he entered the dormitory slowly but surely just as James was finishing his speech. When he came in, he saw Sirius in front of a conjured mirror, glaring at James who was next to him.

“I find _not_ letting Sirius do things is much too dangerous an activity to participate in,” Remus said happily, and gave Sirius a quick peck on the cheek before moving on and putting his books in his trunk.

Sirius looked embarrassed for a split second before recovering and turning to the room with a grin. “Hear that, mates? I’m so wickedly dangerous that a _werewolf_ is scared to say no to me!”

Remus snorted and rolled his eyes, but joined in when the rest of them laughed. He loved seeing Sirius get insecure, in an odd, twisted way. Knowing that the great Sirius Black cared what robe he wore to go on a date with _him_ made him so happy he couldn’t put it into words. So he didn’t. Instead, he smiled sheepishly like the lovesick fool that he was, and basked in the warm embrace of Sirius’ love and affection.

~

When Peter Pettigrew got angry, truly angry, his cheeks flushed and he looked taller - and fatter - somehow. It was probably a subconscious method of trying to look menacing, although Remus was quite certain the boy truly did not know about it. After all, if he did, he wouldn’t do it when he was alone in the dormitory, or with the other Marauders. He wouldn’t retaliate back to whoever had angered him, not immediately. But if he was upset enough he would have a particularly malicious streak of ideas for pranking for a while until the rage dissipated.

When James Potter was angry, he blew up like an explosion and made sure that every single person on his path (or within his reach) felt his fury. If he was outraged, the rest of the wizarding world had to be, too. Sirius was always a willing accomplice to these bursts and together they blew up and calmed down, smiling at the destruction they had brought upon the world in revenge.

When Sirius Black was annoyed or heated, he did much the same as James. But when he was deeply angered, he was much more calculating than that. Remus wondered if that was because James could never be as furious as Sirius could be. Small irritations would cause either dark-haired boy to throw around hexes or insults but real anger made Sirius shut down briefly. He would often show a sign of anger to throw people off the scent, but Remus could always tell that while he cast a Bat-Bogey hex at the offender, Sirius’ brain was five steps ahead of everybody else, plotting a thorough revenge. No wonder the Sorting Hat had taken ages with Sirius: He could be very Slytherin-like.

“Of course he will be with us, Sirius, why would you think that he wouldn’t?” Bellatrix said with fake confusion, her voice sweet as a poison apple.

They were in Hogsmeade and had seen Regulus talking to Bellatrix and several other adults, which had caused Sirius to immediately stomp over and ask Regulus what the fuck he thought he was doing with them.

“Because you’re as crazy and delusional as Walburga,” Sirius snarled, and Remus almost made to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, but suspected it would have the opposite effect. Even James knew better than to interfere, at least for now. Family matters are always complicated, and Sirius’ was even more so. Peter had gotten a black eye once when he had said something vaguely insulting about a group of Slytherins that had included Regulus.

“That’s our mother,” Regulus mumbled, not looking at Sirius. Bellatrix let out a shriek of a laugh, throwing her head back, before calming down and looking back at Sirius. She looked at him excitedly while he glared back.

“Oh Siri, why don’t you just accept it?” she asked.

To his credit, it wasn’t Sirius who took the bait.

“Accept what?” a short man asked, frowning at Bellatrix in confusion. He looked vaguely like the Slytherin Keeper Carrow - if he were uglier - and Remus wondered if they were related. Dumbledore had urged them not to, but they were still idly looking for clues of Voldemort supporters within Hogwarts.

“You are a _Black_ , just like Reggie here is. Just like _I_ am,” she said, tone terrifyingly sweet again, and put an arm around Regulus’ shoulder to show some sort of bond.

Sirius stood still, but his eyes were fixated on Bellatrix’s hand, just like she wanted it.

“It is you, dear cousin,” she continued, “Who should reconsider the company you keep.” She glanced over the Marauders behind Sirius in unveiled disgust, and pulled Regulus marginally closer to herself.

“Incendio!” Sirius shouted - Remus hadn’t even seen him draw his wand - and Bellatrix drew back her hand with a yelp. “If you touch him again, I will do more than burn you, _cousin_ ,” he growled, and kept his wand pointing at her.

She giggled. “You are such a silly boy. Silly, silly boy,” she cackled, “You won’t be around to do that the next time we see each other, Reggie and I. You made sure of that, didn’t you?” Her eyes were sparkling with joy. She stretched her burnt fingers in a way that made Remus wonder if she enjoyed the pain.

Sirius kept looking at her eyes. He was either searching for as painful a string of words to respond with, or trying to find an answer to an unspoken question. There was only so much Sirius shared regarding his family - even with James - so none of the Marauders were sure what exactly was going on at any given moment during those family episodes.

Finally, Sirius lowered his wand. “We’ll talk, Regulus,” he said hoarsely, and walked out of the inn, not looking behind to see anybody’s reaction, or to see whether or not his friends were following him.

Almost a full week later, Remus came to breakfast late as he had been resting from the last Full and was baffled by the sight - or rather, sound - of the Great Hall. The only thing he can hear, even with his exceptional hearing, is a few whispers every now and again, and all students eating as quietly and as slowly as possible. Most of them don’t even seem to be eating, really, just pushing their food around the plate. Almost everybody looks miserable. There are a few people buried in their books, presumably studying for a quiz - and some Slytherins who are eating away as if it is a normal morning, but even they are not speaking.

Remus has always been quiet, so it takes little effort to walk over and sit down next to his friends without turning heads. He gives them a confused look but Peter just bites his lip and shakes his head. James mutters “Later.” He’s playing with a piece of baked potato which has turned into mash.

Remus puts his hand on Sirius’ thigh, but can’t catch the boy’s eye. He grabs Remus’ hand in his own instinctively, but does not stop staring across at the Slytherin table. The werewolf doesn’t need to squint his eyes to see that it is Regulus Sirius is looking at. That determined, longing look is always aimed at Regulus. Remus can almost hear the older Black beg silently in his head for his brother to return to him.

He is too kind to say that Sirius has left Regulus, not the other way around. And although Bellatrix was just aiming to hurt Sirius the other day, she wasn’t wrong in that Regulus is a true Black. He is not mean like Sirius’ mother, no - Remus can’t imagine Regulus hurting even a frog, let alone another human like Walburga Black did with Sirius - but he does believe in blood purity. Many pureblood families do. What he had said about not marrying a muggleborn had been exactly how a Black heir would think, if he were saner than his immediate family. Remus knew that there had even been Headmasters of Hogwarts who had been Blacks, so surely they couldn’t all be as zealous in their hatred of non-purebloods as Walburga and Orion were.

He was sipping his tea, lost in thought, when he felt his right hand getting squeezed with such force that he almost spit out part of his tea. He looked down to see that Sirius was holding his hand with such force that his knuckles were whitening. He looked across the room and saw Regulus and Snape walking away from the Slytherin table.

He looked at Sirius with unconcealed worry in his eyes - hoping his boyfriend would turn around to see it - and wondered what he was going to do.

After breakfast, Peter handed him a copy of the Prophet and Remus understood the solemn mood of the Hall. The family of a muggleborn had been killed the night before, and Voldemort’s mark was on their house afterwards. The Prophet was saying that his attacks were getting bolder and more frequent.

Sirius never did tell Remus what happened that night. Regulus did, a couple of years later, but not Sirius. He had come back from the hospital wing with no apparent injury, but Remus knew the look of healed skin too well not to notice that Sirius was covered in it. Several Slytherins had given him looks of anger and fear for weeks, after. Sirius hadn’t seemed worried at all. In fact, he was in a better mood than he had been since he had run into Bellatrix. Remus was grateful, because he had been growing tired of the random arguments Sirius would start just because deep down he was angry at his brother. Whatever had happened, they seemed to have made up as much as those two ever could.

Sirius was unusually gentle when they made love that night, but Remus tried not to connect the two mentally. In all likelihood, Sirius was simply happy and a happy Sirius, Remus knew now, often lead to a romantic Sirius.

“You know I love you, don’t you Moony?” Sirius whispered just before they fell asleep, and planted a soft kiss on Remus’ forehead.

Remus nodded. He didn’t know why, but he felt he shouldn’t say the words back. It felt like a moment for Sirius.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, and they both knew he meant all the Marauders. His real family. Remus felt a comfortable warmth spread in his chest.

~

Throughout the rest of the school year, they had a few more grim days like that one, but none of them seemed to affect Sirius as much. It did, however, lead to the bloom of a group of Gryffindors forming a sort of group - lead by James of course - who became increasingly interested in Voldemort and how to fight him. James had heard from a Seventh Year that there were non-Aurors fighting as well, and thought this might be a good way for Remus to join, since it would be difficult to become an Auror as a werewolf these days. He also suggested the same to some students who did not have the marks to apply for Auror training.

They tried not to dwell on it constantly, knowing they had to finish school first, but their pranking slowed down considerably as they spent more time spying on Slytherins (“All potential Death Eaters,” James had said) during the weekends than they did setting up pranks.

~

“Oi, Wolf McWolf,” James half-shouted as a conjured stag poked Remus in the forehead, trying to force him to look up. “I’m trying to speak to you.”

“Still Welsh,” Remus said dryly, not looking up from his book and deliberately turning a page even though he wasn’t done reading, just to make a point.

“We need to pull a prank this weekend, and I need it to be fabulous,” James said in response.

“Why do we need to, again?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re catching on to us,” James said with a shrug, “The Slytherins. At first it was easy enough to hide it, making it look like we were planning a prank, but yesterday Mulciber asked me if I’m interested in ‘being a Death Eater, at the rate I keep following them.’”

This made Remus finally interested in helping James, so he put his book away and stood up to face him. “Alright, let’s hear it,” he said, trying not to sound too excited at the idea of having some non-sexual fun again. It really _had_ been a while.

“We will charm the fourth floor corridor - the one by the Salazar statue - to mute whoever walks into it, and stick them onto the walls,” James said, with pride.

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “We are what now?”

Peter was nodding enthusiastically. “So they cannot warn others - brilliant!”

“Why that corridor in particular?” Remus asked thoughtfully. Sirius had just walked in, and answered him before James could.

“It’s not on Filch’s usual route, and since it is very long and without any rooms on it, most Professors skip it during their rounds, too,” Sirius said, and stood next to Remus, giving him a quick kiss on the right corner of his lips.

“Don’t distract him, Padfoot,” James said, pushing Sirius away from Remus, “You know we need him alert for this one.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but didn’t move back next to Remus. The werewolf simply raised an eyebrow. “I get the feeling I am going to have a rather undesirable role in this,” he said. He knew his friends too well not to anticipate he would either be the guinea pig for the spell, or be asked to retrieve materials for it that would end up with him covered in pus or worse.

“Not _exactly_ ,” Sirius said, looking at the ceiling, then quickly rolling his eyes downward. “You just need to figure out the muting part.” He paused. “And make sure you are on Prefect duty the night before so we do not get caught. You know Evans always makes somebody check our dorm when she is doing the rounds. It will take hours to charm the whole corridor.”

“I still think Evans is jealous,” James said with a smile, “And if you just let me stay behind and she knows that _I’m_ not off with another bird, you lot can charm the corridor all you want and nobody will come after you.”

Peter snorted while Sirius and Remus smirked.

“Mate,” Sirius said, with a hand on James’ shoulder in a fake show of support, “You have _got_ to get over Evans. She doesn’t want you.”

“If you can get Moony, I can get any bloody bird I set my eyes on,” James said with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re not as gorgeous as me,” Sirius replied, matter-of-factly.

“Remus is not a superficial berk like you,” James huffed, “He isn’t with you just because of what you look like.”

“Actually, I am,” Remus said, deadpan.

James rolled his eyes while the rest of the boys laughed.

“In any case,” Remus said, and started walking towards the bathroom with his pajamas to change, “I will read up on the muting. What are we using? Actual charms, or some sort of potion?”

“Charms,” James confirmed, “We think that will last the longest. The bricks should be the best, it would get too complicated if we tried to do the whole corridor at once.”

“That really will take hours,” Peter said with distaste, recalling no doubt just how long the corridor was. There must be thousands on bricks along its walls.

“Marauding is not a job for the lazy,” Sirius said solemnly.

“You are the laziest git I know,” Remus replied, amused.

“You wound me,” his boyfriend replied, but he was grinning.

~

The prank did not go _exactly_ as planned. Or rather, it did, and that was a problem.

“Prongs,” Peter whispered under the Invisibility Cloak. They were far enough from the trapped students that they should not hear them, but they couldn’t take the risk. “It has been four hours.”

“I know,” James whispered back, trying not to look worried as he looked at the walls. There were now almost two dozen students stuck to the walls at various angles, most of them looking around frantically. Two were asleep.

“What are we going to do?” Peter squeaked as quietly as he could.

James chewed inside his cheek. “I don’t know,” he admitted. They really hadn’t thought it would last longer than an hour. Their aim had been to catch a stream of students going to the morning Herbology class from this route to avoid the courtyard. They had caught many more and the charm did not show any indication of wearing off.

When Sirius and Remus were back from their Magical Theory class, James and Peter quickly dragged them off to show the quickly increasing number of students stuck to the walls. Sirius laughed and James joined him for a few chuckles before shooting a worried glance at Remus.

“We have to tell McGonagall. And Flitwick,” Remus said immediately. Sirius turned to frown at him, looking disgusted by the suggestion.

“Maybe it is about to wear off?” Peter said, but he sounded as if he was sure it was not.

Remus licked his lips, making some quick calculations in his head. “One of us has to walk in there,” he said.

“NOT IT!” James shouted immediately. Peter and Sirius didn’t bother.

“It can’t be me,” Remus said slowly, “As much as it would be the easiest for me, then McGonagall would suspect the three of you immediately.”

“We wouldn’t prank _you_ , Moony,” James said, grinning.

“Yes you would, Potter,” Remus said, rolling his eyes, “And you have several times. I’m the shy, _good_ one, remember? It would make sense to sacrifice me to pull something like this.” He tapped his chin. “Sirius could work, but then we would have to do something even worse to whoever we will shift the blame on. Everybody knows his unreasonable understanding of retaliation.”

“I want to feel insulted, but I really don’t,” Sirius replied, chipper.

Peter gulped, sensing what was coming. Or so he had thought.

“It will have to be you, Potter,” Remus concluded grimly, turning to James, “You are the only person who could potentially get caught in somebody else’s prank and not burn down the castle in response.”

“I set fires,” James said, annoyed that he was not being put in the same insanity basket as Sirius.

“It can’t be Peter,” Remus insisted, and Peter sighed in relief, “He is too lenient to your ideas. McGonagall would see through it in a second. And out of you and Sirius, well, you are the more sensible one. If I had to pick.”

“Hear that, Pads?” James said to Sirius in a teasing tone, “Your boyfriend likes me better than you. Thinks I’m smarter.”

“I said more sensible,” Remus said, amused, but did not bother denying the rest.

“Po-tato poh-tah-to,” James said, seeming awfully proud of himself for getting the American muggle reference right.

“Moony!” Sirius protested, “Defend my honor! Say you like me best!”

“Why would I lie?” Remus asked, turning to his boyfriend, eyes wide in fake innocence.

“You little—” he started replying, but stopped talking to smack the back of Remus’ head. Remus moved away just in time. Sirius took a few steps to follow, but then Remus ran away a few feet, circling back around.

Before Sirius knew what was happening, he lost his balance and stumbled into the corridor, and was quickly swept away by the charm, eyes wide and mouth open in mute shock. As he got stuck to the wall sideways, the rest of the Marauders could see his mouth moving furiously, presumably cursing Remus and all of his descendants.

James was looking at Remus with a grin and raised eyebrows. Peter seemed confused.

Remus shrugged. “He never would have gone willingly,” he said matter-of-factly, “And we all know James getting hurt or pranked would set him off more than being on the receiving end himself. It’s more believable this way. Now let’s go find Longbottom so he can pretend to run into this.”

Thankfully Sirius was not angry enough not to be calmed down by a blowjob, and in fact seemed to appreciate Remus’ deviousness. Remus stayed awake for several hours that night, thinking about how content he was. This— Pranking, joking around, making up— This was perfect. Everything he could ever want. He watched Sirius sleep, drooling on his right arm and smiled. He simply could not believe his luck.

~

Remus was writing down quotes in his journal when Sirius came back from his morning detention earlier than anticipated. He called it a journal but it was just a string of quotes and notes about books he wanted to read more than anything else. Every now and again, he would put an original line or two, but he had never wanted to be a writer himself. He didn’t think he would have the patience.

Sirius gave him a quick but loving kiss before settling down and wrapping his legs and arms around him, stroking his stomach and resting his head on Remus’ shoulder.

“‘I desire the things that will destroy me in the end,’” he read, “Bloody hell, Moony, that’s grim.”

Remus shrugged, moving Sirius head up and down slightly as he did so. He liked bittersweet quotes, they were his favorite kind. “She’s an American writer,” he said, as if this explained anything.

“Grim, as I said,” Sirius repeated.

“Says the boy whose Animagus is _literally_ the Grim,” Remus snorted, and turned the page to hopefully steer the conversation away. Of course, this page was not filled with any less dark quotes. He didn’t see them as unhappy, really - and he did not read them to get depressed - but he didn’t know how to explain to somebody like Sirius.

“‘Love is a striking example of how little reality means to us,’” Sirius continued reading, grabbing the notebook from Remus who only sighed in return. He knew Sirius would just dig it up if he tried to take it back or hide it. The raven-haired Black mumbled a few more until he found a quote that he seemed pleased with. “A-ha!” he exclaimed, then went on to read it out loud with a perfect accent, first in French, then in English: “‘Vous et nul autre. You and no other.’” After ten more seconds of scanning a few pages, he dropped the journal onto the bed and sat back behind his boyfriend, holding him.

“Why do you write down such miserable quotes?” he asked and he sounded so vulnerable that Remus felt he had hurt the boy, somehow.

The werewolf shrugged. “I find them soothing, I guess. That there is a depth to people’s emotions that is not always apparent.”

Sirius considered this for a few seconds. “Do you think love is always like that? Painful and doomed?” he asked carefully, and Remus could have sworn he felt the other boy’s heart beat faster as his chest was pressing onto his back.

“No,” Remus lied, “Not really.” He turned around, and gave Sirius an awkward kiss as the position was not the best for it. He got out of his boyfriend’s grip to turn and build it into a real kiss. They snogged for several minutes and were laying down on Remus’ bed before either of them spoke again.

“I love you,” Sirius said with conviction, and Remus couldn’t help but look up at him with a curious expression. From this angle he couldn’t see his eyes, but he could imagine his determined look at the ceiling of his four-poster. “We are not part of some tragic novel you’re reading,” he continued, his voice softer now, “We will always be happy.” He got up on his elbows and Remus could now see a grin on his face. “We will be godfathers to however many sprogs Peter and Jamie end up having, and spoil them rotten.” He paused. “We could even adopt ourselves, I suppose.” He paused again and nodded to himself, as if he had just considered it, and was pleased with the idea. “Yes. Maybe you sire one, and I the next, and so on.”

“Are you suggesting we have babies out of wedlock with random witches?” Remus asked, amused at Sirius’ line of thinking. He didn’t bother to joke about Sirius’ use of the word ‘sire’ - they were all used to Sirius’ at-times-weird vocabulary by now.

“We’ll get married,” Sirius said quickly, waving a dismissive hand as if that part was obvious. Remus didn’t correct him to say that he had meant the witches, not them. “And we’ll name the first one…” He thought about it for a brief moment. “James.”

“I am NOT naming my son after James Potter,” Remus laughed.

Sirius frowned. “He’s my _brother_ , Remus,” he said, “And he could name his kid Sirius and they could be best friends, just like we were!” His eyes shone. “Can you imagine the mayhem they would cause once they came to Hogwarts?”

Remus snorted. “If a James and Sirius walk the hallways of Hogwarts again, I think McGonagall will turn in her resignation the first day they set foot here. I’m quite sure the only reason she hasn’t quit yet is because she is gritting her teeth and waiting for us to graduate.”

“You know she loves us,” Sirius replied, grinning. After thinking for another moment, he decided to ask Remus. “What would you name him, then?”

“It could be a girl, too,” Remus mused, not answering.

“Either way,” Sirius shrugged, “What name?”

“I like the name Jonathan,” Remus said slowly, “A muggle name but it rolls off the tongue nicely. And for a girl…” He paused to think, and did not see the glare in Sirius’ eyes until a few seconds later. “What?” he asked.

“Who’s Jonathan?” Sirius asked.

“Who’s Jo—” Remus started repeating in confusion, then laughed. “Nobody. I actually honestly like the name. Not that I think I would ever really have kids, but…” Remus shrugged. “I like longer names, and names that have nothing to do with beasts or old stories. I know now what tempting fate does. Muggle names for my non-existent kids, please, I won’t even risk Godric,” he finished dryly. He hoped he had buried the ‘not ever having kids’ part enough, but of course Sirius caught it. Nothing escaped his notice, particularly when you wanted it to.

“I want kids,” Sirius said happily, “So you need to get used to the idea of being a father one day.” He didn’t sound concerned.

Remus resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow and ask Sirius how he was planning to raise kids when one father was a poor man who turned into a vicious wolf once a month, and the other an Animagus who could not take care of the imaginary kids on the day of the Full Moon on account of needing to be there to stop father one from tearing himself to pieces. Sirius was obviously in a good mood and he didn’t want to ruin it. Couples talked about these things all the time, he didn’t need to get practical about it and spoil the romance.

“What would you name our second child, then?” Remus asked, “Assuming I somehow let you name the first one James. You said ‘kids’. Plural.”

Sirius hummed, squinting his eyes as if in deep concentration. “Bowie,” he declared.

“Bowie is his _last name_ , you knobhead,” Remus said, this time unable to stop his eyes from rolling. “Alright, I am taking away your ability to name any of our offspring. How many are we having again, in this scenario where we are somehow responsible adults raising children when neither of us have learned a single cooking spell yet?”

“Five, I think,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “Need to make sure they can hold their own against the Potters.”

“Against the Potters?” Remus asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

“Yes,” Sirius said seriously, nodding, “Every weekend.” At Remus’ confused look, he clarified: “Quidditch.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake…” Remus sighed. “Can I get a divorce?”

“We haven’t even had the ceremony yet!” Sirius said, raising a hand to his chest in offense. “You already want to leave me!”

“There will be a ceremony, will there?” Remus asked.

“Oh yes,” Sirius said with a grin, “The grandest. Will spend all our money— And Potters’—”

“Seems like a sound investment,” Remus interjected.

“It will be the biggest party anybody has ever seen,” Sirius continued, not bothering to reply to Remus’ comment. “Of course select members of my family will be invited so I can rub it in.”

“I feel like that will end up terribly,” the werewolf said with a laugh, “Anything you and James haven’t set on fire with muggle fireworks will be set on fire by your relatives!”

“YES!” Sirius shouted, making Remus almost flinch. “Yes, muggle fireworks. Everything you can think of. Everything money - and threats - can buy, for the Black & Lupin wedding.” He looked down at Remus and licked his lips, looking into the dirty-blond’s eyes questioningly for a while before he even asked anything. “Would you be opposed to taking my name, Moony?” he asked softly.

“You hate your family, why would you want that?” Remus replied immediately, then furrowed his brows when he thought more about it. “Are you saying I am the girl in this relationship?”

“No no no,” the raven-haired boy said quickly, as if that were a ridiculous thought, “I just would love to get my inheritance early and seeing Remus Black become a thing would probably send Walburga to an early grave. I can’t wait another fifty years to get that gold, Remus. Do it for the money. Do it for the endless Gringott’s vault we would have.”

They joked and laughed for a few more minutes before drifting off into a kip, content in each other's arms.

When Sirius did eventually ask him to marry him, he confessed that he had been worried that night, thinking Remus really did not want to marry him, that he did not see a future with Sirius. He hadn’t known that Remus’ reluctance was regarding being a werewolf parent, not marrying a Black. Everybody worries about their own shortcomings and issues, in the end, and both boys had been stuck in their own heads, with their own insecurities. Too self-conscious, too young to notice the other’s plight fully.

But it didn’t matter, because they were in love. They didn’t need to understand each other fully to make each other happy, to love each other more than either had thought possible.

~

The day they lost the Map to Filch would have mattered more if they hadn’t already outgrown the need of it. By the end of their sixth year, they knew every inch of the castle (they thought) and that knowledge, the Invisibility Cloak and the information they had on the Professors, Filch, and their habits, meant that they barely glanced at the Map any more. They didn’t need the Map to tell them that Filch always went to Hogsmeade the second Tuesday of the month, or that Professor Flitwick drank tea in his classroom rather than his office after classes. They knew which floorboards creaked and which staircases had fake steps. They even knew about a brick that liked traveling around the castle with what first appeared to be random movements, which instead turned out to be a two-month long cycle.

They didn’t even bother trying to get it back, hoping perhaps other students could find and take it - and having stolen something from Filch’s office would definitely make them a worthy and appropriate user of the Map. Who knew, maybe they would even get to pass on the torch before they graduated.

For now, they had more important things to worry about. They were of age, soon to leave Hogwarts’ safety, and go into a war. Every Prophet that silenced the Great Hall reminded them of just how close it was.


	12. Sing to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update so soon WHAT? I can hear y'all saying. Yes, yes indeed. Short one, though, relatively speaking.

**Year Seven, Fall/Winter, 1977**

 

_**You shine like silver in the sunlight** _

_**You light up my whole heart** _

_**It feels like in the sun, the sun** _

_**We’re running around and around** _

_**Like nothing else could matter in our life** _

_**But wait, but wait, but wait** _

_**The sun will stop shining soon** _

_**And you’ll be gone from my life** _

_Love Like This - Kodaline_

 

Sirius came back to Hogwarts for Seventh Year with a muggle guitar. Even if Remus had not spent most of his life reminiscing his school days, it still would have been impossible to forget it. In fact, any Gryffindor present at Hogwarts that year remembered Sirius and his guitar in great detail. He practiced with it _constantly_. And sang along. It wasn’t even that he had a particularly awful voice but it was _constant_. They had thought before that he couldn’t possibly make more noise because he talked all the time, but they didn’t any more. They hadn’t known just how much of a day could be filled with Sirius Black’s voice until he started singing, too. Even the girls who had been intrigued with Sirius’ leather jacket and artist attitude quickly grew tired of it when faced with the reality that no, he would never stop strumming on that damned thing.

One day, the Marauders had come down from their dormitory into the common room, on their way to dinner, and found Marlene McKinnon teaching a group of what seemed to be First and Second Year students how to cast directional silencing spells, so they could block out Sirius’ music. James had laughed for a minute straight when Marlene had explained to them just why she was training the poor young students. Sirius had glared and told them they should be grateful he is bestowing his talents upon them. 

One of the very rare days Sirius did not touch his guitar was when he got stuck in his Animagus form at Hogsmeade. He had transformed when they were going down the path and forgotten to transform back when they first arrived at Honeydukes. Then, as luck would have it, they had run into Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon.

“Wormtail for the last time, I do _not_ need any more Chocolate Frogs! There is only so much a man can—!” Remus was saying, holding back an eye-roll. His friend was being sweet, there was no point being mean to him.

“Lily-flower!” James exclaimed, cutting Remus off. The Marauders turned to see Lily and Marlene browsing the mixed sweets on the wall.

Lily turned around with pursed lips, and closed her eyes for a long moment, looking like she was praying for patience. “Hello, Potter,” she said, patiently.

“Ah come now, we can’t still be on surname basis,” James said happily, walking towards her, “We’re Head Boy and Head Girl, now.” His fingers moved towards his the left side of his chest where he usually kept the badge, but since he was in muggle clothes it was not there.

“So you have been reminding me every single day for the past five weeks,” Lily sighed, looking like the conversation was giving her a headache.

“Five weeks during which you have not hexed me _once_ ,” James declared, grinning like the maniac that he was.

Lily hummed, sounding disheartened.

“Come on, Lily,” Marlene said with a mischievous giggle, “You have to admit Potter hasn’t been too bad this year. So far, at any rate.” She winked at James who blew her a kiss.

“Oh lord,” Lily said with a sigh, but then looked to find James patiently looking at her with hopeful puppy-dog eyes. Remus could see that she was considering giving him a chance at being a decent human being as he _had_ been rather good so far this year. It hadn’t been long, but James really seemed to have calmed down considerably. He wasn’t even ruffling his hair in the yard any more.

“LILY!” Marlene shouted suddenly, “LILY LOOK!”

Everybody, including Sirius, turned around to look behind them. Except Sirius was in his Animagus form, and when he turned back he saw that the girls were looking at _him_. Remus expected to see panic in his eyes but instead he started wagging his tail and panting happily. Predictably, the girls started petting him.

“And who do _you_ belong to, you little monster?” Lily asked, petting him gently on his head and looking for a collar with her other hand.

“‘ _Little_ ’?” Marlene snorted, “He’s the size of a horse. If it weren’t for the tail, I’d be convinced he were.”

Peter and Remus looked at each other, trying to come up with an explanation silently, but James was faster. “My uncle’s dog, actually,” he said easily, “We have him for the day while he does some shopping around Hogsmeade.”

“Where can you take a dog in Hogsmeade?” Marlene asked, curious, and started petting Sirius too, making him wag his tail even more, and lay down with his belly bared, covering the whole aisle.

“Rosmerta wouldn’t mind as long as he behaves,” James said, his eyes twinkling with mischief that the girls wouldn’t understand even if they had been looking at him. “Why don’t you girls join us for the day? Get some dog-petting in?”

Remus might have been jealous if not for the fact that the girls didn’t know that it was Sirius beneath the fur _and_ Sirius had given James a confused tilt of the head at the comment. Then, understanding dawning on him, Sirius had glared at James with as much veiled anger as a dog could put in his eyes.

“Excellent idea,” Peter said, catching on to the joke and nodding excitedly.

Sirius looked at Remus pleadingly. He had plans for the day, Remus knew. “I agree,” he said with a gentle smile at the girls, “Snuffles could use some company that won’t try to train him to sniff up girls’ crotches.”

James’ eyes grew as wide as saucers and he stared at Remus. “MOONY! I wouldn’t— I never—! What are you—?” he spluttered, then turned to see how the girls had reacted. They were giggling.

“Alright, let’s go,” Marlene said, standing back up. She looked around. “Where’s Black?”

“Has a—” James started, before remembering that they could never use the excuse of a date anymore, now that Sirius and Remus were officially together. “Er— He was banned. Just for this weekend.”

“Slughorn?” the blond girl asked with a knowing smile.

“Dumbledore, actually, oddly enough,” James replied, quickly trying to think of who they couldn’t ask for details directly. Being a Marauder for six years had taught him to think on his feet and make sure his lies would not be uncovered. “In any case, let’s go, ladies!” He gave them a small bow, and pointed towards the door with his right hand.

“I have to pay for these,” Lily said, holding up a bag, and walking off before James could offer to pay for them. Remus was pleased to see that he didn’t follow her.

They made their way to Three Broomsticks and spent most of the day together, even after lunch. Somewhere along the way, Lily and James actually started walking slightly behind or before the group, lost in their conversations. Remus smiled when he saw how gentle James was being around her now, speaking softly and looking at her not as if she were a dazzling Veela - like had been prone to do - but as if she were the only girl in the world. There wasn’t lust in his eyes, only kindness.

When they parted ways with the girls, minutes to curfew (“Have to drop him off, we’ll see you at dinner, ladies!”), Sirius transformed in the nearest bush and proceeded to immediately push James and glare at him as he stumbled.

“You _wanker_ ,” Sirius growled.

“Oh you loved it,” James said dismissively, waving his hand to the side, “They gave you so much attention.”

“I didn’t want their attention,” Sirius said, annoyed, “I wanted to go to Zonko’s and pick up the last of the potion ingredients I need for class next week.”

“Zonko’s doesn’t sell potion ingredients,” Peter said.

“You know full well what I mean, you rat,” he growled in reply. Then he paused, pursing his lips at his best friend and brother again, who was simply grinning in return. “I also wanted to show Moony a good time, he’s spending too much time revising as it is.”

“I saw him pet you once or twice,” James said happily.

“I had a good time,” Remus said, right after. “It was nice to not hear any singing for a few hours.”

“See, even Moony prefers you as a dog,” James laughed, “I keep telling you, you should just stay as a dog. Make it permanent.”

“Traitor,” Sirius growled at Remus, then started walking towards one of the passages back to the castle.

The rest of the boys followed, laughing.

~

Remus had to admit, as much as they teased Sirius about it, he didn’t actually mind Sirius playing the guitar, nor his singing. He had never been a ‘music person’ like Lily was but he appreciated how concentrated Sirius looked as he stared at his left hand, trying to get his fingers to be in _just_ the right position. His eyebrows furrowed and his beautiful - there was no other word for them - hands moved with grace even when they hit the wrong notes. Most of the songs he sang were cheesy and full of muggle references that Sirius could not possibly understand, but every now and again he would sing an emotional ballad and Remus would find himself inevitably captivated.

Most of those times, Sirius would notice and start changing the lyrics to become silly but sometimes, sometimes he would sing the whole song, his raspy, somehow-melancholy-at-age-eighteen voice would mesmerize Remus for the few minutes the song lasted.

His favorite - although he didn’t tell Sirius right away - was his acoustic rendition of a disco song. Remus hadn’t even realized just how much he liked it when Sirius sang love songs until he listened to Sirius sing that song one night in the dormitory while Peter and James were in the common room playing chess.

Sirius was strumming on his guitar idly, flipping through pages to find a song to sing.

“ _Sunny, yesterday my life was filled with rain_ ,” Sirius started singing, and Remus looked up from the sandwich that he was eating. The melody sounded familiar, as did the first line, but he couldn’t place it right away. Sirius continued:

“ _Sunny, you smiled at me and really eased the pain_

_The dark days are gone, and the bright days are here,_

_My Sunny one shines so sincere_

_Sunny one so true, I love you.”_

Remus smiled as Sirius sang. The raven-haired boy didn’t look up once during his song (in fact, his eyes were closed for most of it), but Remus felt as if Sirius was singing to _him_. Telling him that he loved him. Not that he didn’t almost daily, but this felt more intimate.

That was the only time Remus Lupin managed to hear the song in its entirety from Sirius, with the correct lyrics. Every other time, Sirius made sure to swap the words up. But the werewolf didn’t mind, because Sirius never failed to make him laugh when he did so.

The next time Sirius sang the song, the Marauders were sprawled next to the lake, unnaturally dry from having swum in the lake, then dried themselves magically. Sirius was finally getting good enough at singing that they had stopped throwing things at him or hexing him whenever he summoned it.

“ _Sunny,_ ” he started, with flair, and Remus grinned immediately, heart beating faster in anticipation.

“ _Sunny, yesterday my life was filled with rain,_ ” he continued, then grinned and winked at Remus.

“ _Sunny, you went down on me and eased the pain,”_ he sang, not changing his tune at all. James cackled while Peter groaned. Remus raised his eyebrows, and his grin got slightly smaller.

“ _The dark days are gone, and the bright days are here,_

_I never have to wank alone from here on ’ere…”_

_“_ That doesn’t even make sense, Pads,” Remus said, laughing.

“Stop serenading your boyfriend, Padfoot,” James said, but was grinning, still amused.

Sirius ignored all of them and continued to sing about rather inappropriate things he would like to do to “Sunny”.

His renditions weren’t always dirty. Often, he would sing most of the song exactly how it was, but change a few key words to make it ridiculous such as swapping ‘Sunny’ with ‘Froggy’ halfway through, or messing up certain words on purpose such as ‘ten inches tall’ instead of ‘ten feet tall’, and other silly fake mix-ups. He never failed to make Remus laugh and give him a wink every time he did so.

He didn’t do this with any other song (although he sang his share of parody songs, but never the same way he did this one). Remus found out why, just before winter break, when Sirius was serenading him one more time with a rendition that talked of ogres sunbathing.

“Why do you only do that with that song?” Remus asked, wiping tears from his eyes as Sirius finished the song.

“Because it makes you smile,” Sirius answered, with unexpected sincerity.

“I smile when you sing my favorite songs, too,” the werewolf said, confused, “Like Breakdown.”

“Not the same,” Sirius said softly, and put his guitar down. “When I sang Sunny the first time, you looked at me the same way you did the first time I told you I loved you.”

There suddenly wasn’t enough oxygen in the room to fill Remus’ lungs and he wondered when the mood had shifted so drastically. Sirius was now looking at him with a mixture of emotion that he couldn’t quite name. It was almost like longing but that made no sense because they were together, figuratively and physically.

“I love making you smile,” the Animagus continued, and smiled himself, making his way over to Remus and capturing his lips in a kiss.

From that night, the song became _their song_ , although neither of them said it out loud to the other. They simply knew.

~

Although their last Christmas at Hogwarts happened to coincide with the full moon, Remus couldn’t help but be excited about it. With his friends by his side, his transformations barely took a toll on him (compared to when he was little) and Mrs. Potter had promised to send them homemade Christmas cookies while the boys celebrated. There was something about her cookies that just were not the same as the Hogwarts house-elves’.

There were only five other Gryffindors staying behind, and they had all decided to leave their presents under a huge Christmas tree in the common room. James had charmed the room to play Christmas songs, muggle and wizarding alike, and for once his alteration of a room had not displeased Lily Evans. In fact, when she first came down the dormitory stairs to hear White Christmas, she had hugged Sirius and James who had been the only people in the room at the time. The dark-haired boys had been stunned, and James had not stopped talking about it all day.

On 25th of December, Remus woke up with Sirius in his arms, and kissed the other boy’s neck as he cuddled up closer instead of getting up. He could tell Sirius was awake already, but neither boy wanted to get up just yet. They spent several minutes just enjoying each other’s company and listening to their breathing, not even saying ‘good morning’.

Their lazy morning bliss was cut shorter than they would have liked by a scream.

“I AM GOING TO GET KILLED BY A CHRISTMAS TREE!” James shouted in the distance - presumably the common from.

“PRONGS **DUCK**!” came Peter’s nervous yelp.

“THIS IS NOT HOW JAMES POTTER DIES!” James cried out, then there was a very loud thud and crack as something fell and broke. Multiple somethings, potentially.

“PRONGS!” Peter shouted again.

Remus sighed. “I s’pose we need to go save them.”

“JAMES POTTER MAKE IT STOP THIS INSTANT!” Persephone, a Fifth Year Prefect yelled and Remus could see her outraged expression in his mind’s eye. He had seen it pointed at the Marauders often enough to memorize it. Bulging eyes, nostrils flared, cheeks flushed. It would have been scary if it weren’t so _funny_.

“Let ’im die,” Sirius mumbled, pushing Remus’ hand onto his chest so he couldn’t move it easily. “My Moony time. ’Sides, if he dies, I get his presents, as the only other Potter boy left.”

“Whatever he did, it sounds like it won’t leave any presents behind to inherit,” Remus said with laughter in his voice as more sounds of things breaking came.

That made Sirius’ eyes open finally, and he started poking at his eyes with a groan. “Merlin’s balls. Stupid Potter,” he complained as he poked gound out of his eyes. “He better not have broken my present to you. I’ll have his skin.”

“I didn’t know you had a present for me,” Remus said, getting up and putting on his pajamas. “I thought you were just going to put a bow on your cock and call it a day.”

“Har har.”

They made their way downstairs slowly, and were about to take their last step down when a Christmas ornament flew towards them and crashed into the wall right in front of them. Eyebrows raised, they turned around to see what was going on.

The Christmas tree was spinning so rapidly around itself that it was a blur of colors - mostly green - and only James were Peter were inside the common room. The two girls were glaring down from the stairs. Peter was hiding behind the couch while James kept muttering different spells and jumping around, occasionally getting hit by an ornament or other object caught in the chaos.

“Finite Incantatem,” Remus said. It didn’t work.

“Thank you, o wise one,” James said, not looking behind to look at the two other boys. “Glad you could finally join us. Now stop being silly and start trying something _creative_.”

“What did you do to it?” Sirius asked, looking at the tree with excitement. He didn’t seem concerned. In fact, he seemed rather fascinated.

“I wanted to see if I could make it—” James started, then had to stop to cast a protection spell as a big star ornament came at his forehead. “If I could make it dance,” he finished.

Finally, after several counter-spells and stunning spells, the tree calmed down. The girls came down and soon they were all calmly hanging around the common room, chatting or reading a book. Or staring at Lily Evans with dreamy eyes, as was James’ case.

‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ started playing, and Sirius stopped stroking Remus’ thigh idly as he read and instead shook him to get his attention.

“Mmm?” Remus hummed, not looking away from his book.

“Let’s dance, Moony,” Sirius said happily.

Remus paused to listen to the song. “This is not a dancing song,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Sirius, but putting his book down. “Also, I don’t dance.”

Sirius got up, pulling his boyfriend to his feet. Seeing him put down a book had been all the encouragement he needed. He pulled the werewolf close to him and started swaying them side to side.

“ _This evening has been,_ ” he sang along, “ _So very nice_.”

Remus did not sing the responding lines, but did smile and move along with his boyfriend. He had to admit, even if he didn’t like dancing (and, on a completely unrelated note, _couldn’t_ actually dance), it felt good to move slowly and feel Sirius’ body against his. In the distance, he heard James ask Lily if he would like to dance too, but his attention was drawn back to Sirius quickly when the other boy nuzzled his nose against Remus’ cheek and pulled him even closer.

They danced until the song stopped and Sirius pulled the werewolf into a deep, passionate kiss. Remus was embarrassed when Peter started whistling at them, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.

He wondered how he had gotten lucky enough to get Sirius Black as a boyfriend.

~

Objectively, Remus knew that he and Sirius fought. They had always argued, and getting together had not lessened it. One of the few times he remembered it getting truly heated, though, was after he had accidentally caught Sirius meeting up with Regulus, and stayed behind to eavesdrop. He was under the Cloak, trying to find Sirius so they could meet up with the other two, but had instead found the two brothers arguing and had been unable to walk away, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You’re Sirius,” Regulus said sadly, “How could you ever understand?”

“I’m your _brother_ ,” Sirius spat back as if it were a curse. Maybe he thought that it was. “Who would understand you better than your brother?”

Regulus looked at his older brother with a mixture of pride and sadness in his eyes and Remus, not for the first time, wondered how it was possible to put so much emotion into a look. He had spent his life trying to wipe emotion off of his face so he knew eyes could give away a lot, but he had never had such palpable emotions to begin with.

“Almost anybody, I would imagine,” Regulus said in a whisper and even Sirius Black didn’t find it in him to shout back, so honest and pure the words sounded.

Sirius frowned. “Explain it to me, then,” he pled, “Tell me what— What can I do to stop you?”

Regulus pursed his lips. “Why must it be you to stop me? Why must anybody stop me at all? You don’t even know what I am doing.”

“I know you have an idiot’s tattoo on your arm,” Sirius snarled.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You don’t know anything any more, brother,” he said quietly, “Not the way you think you do. But then again, you always thought you knew everything, didn’t you? Only one way to achieve any goal, according to Sirius Black. Only one truth.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius seemed taken aback.

“You may be smart, brother - terribly smart, too smart for your own good even, according to McGonagall - but once you are on a train of thought you stick to it like a lifeline. Like no other possibility exists.”

Sirius furrowed his brows and licked his lips nervously, a habit he had picked up from Remus unconsciously. “What are you trying to say?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Regulus sighed, after a moment’s hesitation, “Nothing you would understand. Just…” He looked around with a raised eyebrow, as if he had heard something but Remus was sure he had not made a sound. “It’s not Slytherins versus the world.”

“You want me to not kill every single Slytherin I see as soon as I graduate?” Sirius said, amused. He probably assumed Regulus was trying to protect his friends. Remus had heard the words differently and, he would find out later, more accurately than Sirius had. Regulus was saying that there were Death Eaters that were not in Slytherin. That Sirius should watch his back.

The younger Black sighed again, and looked away, resigned. “You are still my brother,” he said, quiet but determined, “And if you need help, please tell me.”

Sirius laughed a cruel laugh. “That’s my line, little brother. I’m not about to go to a Death Eater for help, thank you. Not one as meek as you at any rate, if I ever were daft enough to seek the help of a delusional zealot. ’d rather snog Bellatrix.”

At that, Regulus let out a real chuckle. He was still smiling when he spoke. “I still remember the buck teeth you gave her when she tried to kiss you. Even father couldn’t get rid of it, remember?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, matching his brother’s smile, “Had to go to St. Mungo’s and everything.”

After that, silence was prevalent once more, and both brothers stopped smiling, as if they had just remembered where they were. They started speaking at the same time.

“Regulus—”

“Sirius—”

Sirius looked at his brother, waiting for him to speak. Regulus took a deep breath before doing so. “One day… One day, Sirius, I think you really _will_ understand,” he said, sounding hopeful and desperate at the same time, “Mother and father might not be your favorite people, but the Blacks are more than them. They’re me, they’re you, they’re Great Aunt Cassy and Uncle Ignatius. Walburga and Orion… I’m not doing this for the two of them.”

“You were always mummy’s little boy, Regulus, don’t try to deny it,” Sirius said, but even Remus could hear the lack of venom in his words.

“I don’t hate them like you do, no,” Regulus agreed, shaking his head ‘no’. “But Sirius—” he said, and lifted his head to look at his brother in the eyes again. He paused for so long Remus wondered how in Merlin’s name Sirius was putting up with the silence. “You will understand one day,” Regulus repeated, “I truly think you will.” ‘ _I need you to_ ,’ he didn’t add but they could all hear it, unspoken as it was.

Sirius was about to speak again, but Peeves appeared out of nowhere and started screeching, pointing at Remus’ feet which the werewolf now noticed were poking out of the cloak. “FEET! FEET! FEET!” the ghost was shrieking, trying to poke Remus’ feet as he dodged. “Dirty feet, running around the castle!”

The Animagus’ eyes immediately dropped to where Remus’ feet were and caught a glimpse of them before they disappeared. There was no way he had not seen, and known that they were Remus’ worn brown shoes. If possible, Sirius’ expression hardened even more. He turned his head back to his brother slowly while Peeves kept shouting “Feeties! Feet disappeared! Dirty flirty feety!”

“Maybe,” he said quietly to Regulus. He ran his fingers through his hair and shot another glance at where Remus was standing, invisible beneath the cloak. “You don’t have to wait until I do.”

Both brothers nodded and the younger one walked away slowly but surely, back straight even as his expression looked sad. Blacks were incapable of not being graceful, apparently.

Peeves got bored quickly and knew better than to mess with Sirius, and disappeared. Sirius stayed quiet for a minute before turning to Remus again. “You can come out, Remus,” he said, no affection in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said sheepishly, pulling away the cloak, “James and Peter needed us. I didn’t mean to spy.”

“You didn’t leave, either,” Sirius said, and his calm demeanor was how Remus knew he was in trouble.

“I’m sor—” Remus started, but was cut off.

“It’s _my_ family business, Remus,” Sirius snarled, stomping over towards him until their noses were almost touching. “Stay the FUCK out of my bloody business and don’t— Don’t you _dare_ speak to Regulus again.”

“What does this have to do with me—” he tried to ask, confused, but Sirius cut him off again.

“I SAID STAY AWAY FROM HIM,” Sirius shouted, spit coming out of his mouth, “I don’t know why you think just because I stick my cock up your arse that you can stick your nose into my business, but I—” Sirius kept yelling, but Remus didn’t hear much of it. His ears were ringing. He knew, deep down he _knew_ that Sirius was only frustrated with the situation. Angry with his brother, if anyone, but not Remus, not that much. Yet the words still stung. The way he was raging in front of him, mouth frothing and arms flailing in the air— It hurt.

The Marauders never did know how to handle Sirius’ family drama, and this was no exception. Remus made a few weak attempts at talking back, but Sirius was too lost in his fury to hear. The werewolf later told James about what had happened, hoping he could help Sirius with what he was going through, but James told him that Sirius had shot him down every time he tried to talk about Regulus at all.

Maybe, Remus thought, maybe that’s when it had started. Sirius shutting him out, that is. Maybe that’s when Sirius had decided that he would rather not share everything with Remus, would sometimes rather wake up alone than with a sweaty boy on his chest or back. Maybe if Remus had respected his boundaries, Sirius would not have felt so trapped by their relationship.


	13. Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Hogwarts! FINALLY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are still small scenes remaining that happened while they were at Hogwarts, but I think I'll add them as separate pieces, as the timing seems appropriate.
> 
> Enjoy! :)
> 
> By the by, shameless Tumblr plug: https://padfootmoony.tumblr.com/

**Year Seven, Spring, 1978**

 

**_You're getting closer,_ **

**_You're keeping it all hidden inside._ **

**_There's something you've got to find._ **

**_Don't throw it all away_ **

**_and tell me it's over, over._ **

**_Don't you tell me it's over, over._ **

_Over - Seafret_

 

The winter break was unusually free of owl post at the Lupin residence. Remus knew James and Sirius were taking a vacation with the Potters and tried not to feel slighted, but he couldn’t stop looking out the window every few hours, hoping to see Sirius’ jet-black owl flying towards him. Even Peter had only written once, mentioning he was busy packing and preparing to “leave the nest”.

Remus had not thought about “leaving the nest” at all, not until Peter’s letter came. He knew, in his mind, that that’s what many people did: Move out of their parents’ home to either take their studies further or live closer to work or simply enjoy life, in the Prewett brothers’ case. But when it came to himself he had thought of graduating similar to the holidays; he would come back home and arrange to meet with his friends outside or spend time at each others’ when they could. He hadn’t thought of it as an infinite amount of time that would, never end up with them boarding the Hogwarts train again.

It occurred to him as suddenly as the moving-out idea had, that he would not be able to have Sirius over. The Marauders had come to the Lupin cottage in the summer of Fourth Year, but Sirius had never come alone. Remus could go to James and Sirius’ - because, he knew without having been told, that they would get an apartment together in London - but at some point he imagined James would want the apartment to himself. And even if not, without Peter there, the dynamic would be weird with Sirius’ boyfriend constantly being over at their’s.

Sirius, visiting him here at the Lupin residence, where Remus had spent his childhood… Remus thought about how that would be. The cottage was a far cry from Grimmauld Place or the Potter Manor, and even the not-yet-rented London flat of James and Sirius, Remus was sure.

He knew the dark-haired boy wouldn’t mind. He hadn’t complained at all about the tattered sheets or uncomfortable mattress when he had stayed, before. Even the food which wasn’t close to being as rich and plentiful as Hogwarts’ feasts didn’t seem to faze Remus’ friends who had an appetite that scared even the Hogwarts house-elves. As nervous as the werewolf had been, from what he could tell, his friends had enjoyed their time here.

Peter had called Hope’s pudding “scrummy”. The werewolf wasn’t sure why he remembered such a small detail, but he could picture Peter perfectly when he thought back to the memory. He supposed it was because he had felt proud of his mother and that, at that moment, he had felt like his home was a good enough place to host his friends, and not just a place they got stuck at because the Potters were renovating.

It was small moments like that that made Remus feel like a true Marauder, equal to the rest. Someone that could offer something for the amazing friendship and love that his friends had freely given him over the years.

~

“I was thinking,” Remus started, then paused to try and catch his father’s eye. His father raised an eyebrow and Remus saw his own curious face stare at him. It was uncanny how alike their facial features and expressions were. It had grown more and more pronounced as Remus had grown up.

“You often do,” Lyall said when his son didn’t continue.

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes and moan. Reactions like that would not be beneficial in making his case. “Well,” he continued, “School will be over soon.”

Lyall nodded, waiting for Remus to continue.

“I haven’t gotten a job yet— A wizarding job, that is,” he said quickly, wanting to brush over the embarrassment of the two rejection owls he had gotten so far. It didn’t mean much, he had told himself, he would apply to the jobs he _really_ wanted - the ones that needed credentials - once his NEWTs came in. “And, well, Wormtail - Peter - is moving to London, after.”

His father nodded again, and let out a hum of acknowledgement. “Mm.”

“Even if—” the werewolf started, then stopped himself. _Don’t use negatives_ , he told himself. He reworded his thoughts before speaking again.

“The pub I worked at last summer said they would be happy to have me back,” he said, “And since I am of age, I could even get nightshift work now, it would be better money…” He looked around the room nervously. “It would be inconvenient to Apparate to the safe spot and walk for a long time. It was fine for two months, but…” Now that he was talking to his father, the words just would not come out. Thankfully, his father pitied his flustered state and decided to help him out.

“Are you telling me you want to get a flat?” he asked, sounding more amused than Remus wished. This must be funny to an adult, indeed.

 _I’m an adult now. Soon, even by Muggle standards,_ Remus thought, and looked his father in the eyes, drawing a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was this nervous.

“It’s far, is all. It would make sense to live closer.”

Lyall smiled at his son happily. “It should be Hope you talk to, not me,” he said, “She’s the person who wishes you didn’t even have to go to school!”

Remus bit his lip nervously for a second before making himself stop. “Right, but…” He hesitated again. “You know the regulations.”

His father startled. Somehow, as the years had passed and Remus settled in Hogwarts, things had started feeling so good and _normal_ that he had forgotten - for a minute - what his son was. “Oh.”

“Since you worked there before,” Remus elaborated unnecessarily.

“I’ll have to check,” Lyall sighed, “I still have some friends working there.” He pursed his lips in thought, then looked at his son with a worried expression. “It is more difficult now, I think, because of… You know…”

“Voldemort,” Remus confirmed.

“Right. Him,” his father said, “It’s… They will want more surveillance, probably. Random checks, things like that. Doubt you would have much privacy. I remember when we first moved here, they used to stop by almost once a week.” He snorted back a laugh. Remus raised a questioning eyebrow. “Once, one of the blokes who seemed to always have mud under his shoes put his feet - shoes and all - on the couch. Hope screamed bloody murder. Went on about how it was bad enough they waltzed in constantly, they were not about to ruin her furniture too. The look on his face was priceless. Worth the made-up charge he made up about the chains. I would pay ten Galleons to see that again, one was no bother.”

“I don’t remember that,” Remus said but smiled as he imagined it in his head.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Lyall sighed, “You were very young, and we tried to keep you out of the way when they came. Seeing as how most of them thought you would eat them alive, it wasn’t difficult to convince them to leave you alone in your room.” He coughed. “I will look up the regulations, for you.”

“Thanks, tad.”

“Anything for you, mab.”

~

“ _I’m telling you_ ,” Peter insisted, “There is something down there.” He was standing next to his bed, pointedly not looking at it, as if looking would somehow make something appear on it (or under it, as he was trying to argue).

“Wormtail. Blud. Don’t you think you are _a bit_ too old to believe in monsters under your bed?” James said impatiently. He had gotten better at not outright insulting people - Peter included - but was still not the epitome of patience or tact.

Peter scowled. “I had a boggart under my bed when I was six. It kept turning into a huge spider, legs thick as my arm. My parents didn’t believe me when I told them about the mean spider for a _week,_ until my father gave in and looked underneath to be faced with a boa restrictor.” He paused and frowned. “’Least that’s what he said it was, but he was darting his eyes when he talked. Maybe he saw something else.” He shrugged, seemingly having lost interest in that train of thought. “Irregardless, my point is: sometimes monsters are real.”

“You mean ‘regardless’,” Remus said quietly, lifting an eyebrow but not taking his eyes off of the parchment he was writing on. He was staying out of this whole conversation if he could help it. Peter gave him a look but did not respond.

“Yes, Petey, sometimes ‘monsters are real’,” James said, mimicking Peter’s higher pitched voice mockingly. “But there are not that many that would dwell in a small place where your socks full of cum are playing Quidditch with dust balls.”

Remus stopped writing for a moment to reflect on how, years later, he still could be surprised by James’ imagination and choice of words. He started trying to visualize the scenario.

Would the socks play Chaser’s Quidditch like they did at home with only Chasers and Keepers, or would there be a smaller one as a Snitch and angry socks hitting each other with… Rocks? Dried pieces of dropped food? Who knew what Peter had dropped down there over the years.

“Aren’t you a pureblood?” Peter said, still trying to reason with James. “Don’t you _know_ that house beasts and poltergeists are common, especially in places like this? Actually, you don’t even need to be a pureblood - Have you _lived_ in this castle for the past, say, six years, James Potter? Pixies and boggarts everywhere. I am convinced Dumbledore is breeding the most annoying things here just to get to us. Why else would we have a lake with mermen in it, I ask you? And _one of his beasts_ has decided to take up residence under my bed.”

Just as Peter stopped talking, there was a cracking noise that was barely audible over his last few words.

“DID YOU HEAR THAT?” he shouted, turning to face his bed again, and pointing. “DID YOU? I TOLD YOU!”

James and Peter looked at each other as if to say ‘the things we deal with, eh?’.

“Wormtail—” James started, his tone making it clear that he was going to tell Peter to let it go.

“Oh you _wankers_! Don’t tell me you didn’t hear that.”

“This is an old castle, Peter,” James replied quickly. “Of course it makes noises. I couldn’t sleep right the whole first week I moved here, it was so loud. I’m still not convinced there is anything under your bed that has not been put there by you.”

Peter sighed, shoulders dropping. Clearly, he still believed there was something under his bed, but was willing to let the subject go for now. “Fine,” he said curtly, “Let’s go to dinner, only half an hour left.”

~

When Remus finally got a letter from his father, it was far from what he had expected. It was barely a few sentences, asking him to arrange with Dumbledore to talk to Lyall through the floo at a private location.

He wasn’t scared, not exactly, but his his heart did start beating a bit faster as his eyes scanned over the words again and again. When Sirius found him on his bed, he was still holding the letter. His boyfriend noticed Remus’ uncomfortable mood immediately.

“What is it, Moony?” he asked, taking off his Quidditch gear and t-shirt before sitting next to the werewolf.

“Tad wants to talk to me,” Remus said slowly, frowning down at the letter. “Actually talk, through the floo.”

“That’s odd,” Sirius remarked, but his tone suggested that he wasn’t sure if this was something to be worried about or not.

Remus turned to his boyfriend and, after a small sigh, gave him a smile. “He is probably going to ask me about NEWTs. He wants me to score well to help my chances of getting hired,” he said lightly, the lie rolling off his tongue with ease. “How was Quidditch?” he added, changing the subject.

“Good! I scored three against Prongs and that is something to be proud of. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Has a big enough head as it is.”

Remus snorted. Neither boy was humble and of all the things James liked to show off about, at least Quidditch was something he put work into so his bragging didn’t bother Remus as much. Showing off his wealth or natural talent in magic was less pleasant to be around for.

Not that he was as bad anymore. Particularly during their Seventh Year, James had really dialed back his peacock routine. With each date with Lily, he seemed to be calming down and growing up further.

“Let’s go down to the kitchens, I am _starving_!” Sirius said, walking towards the shower. “Want to join me for my shower, Moony?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m coming now in a minute,” Remus laughed, “Just need to put these away.” He pointed towards the pile of books on his bed. His boyfriend nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

~

If took almost a month before the mystery of Peter’s noisy bed was solved.

“IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!” Peter wailed, pointing frantically at his bed.

“Wormtail, for the last time,” Remus said - even he was growing impatient at this point - through gritted teeth. “There is nothing there. Your bed is so low and you have so many things down there, how would a beast even _fit_ there?”

“Maybe it’s a baby,” James said absent-mindedly, still reading the Prophet in his hand.

“Maybe it is!” Peter gasped.

“He was being sarcastic, Wormtail,” Remus sighed.

“But it could _be,_ ” Peter insisted, looking at the bed with less fear and more curiosity now. “I’m going to look.”

“Are you telling me,” Remus said angrily, eyes wide, “That all these weeks you have been biting our heads off about it, you never _looked_?”

“Well,” Peter said, blushing, “I was… I didn’t want to…”

James snorted. “Grow a pair.” Remus would usually discourage such comments from James and Sirius but this time he happened to agree.

When Peter looked below the bed, he surprisingly did find something. A tiny Swooping Evil. 

“I’m going to keep her!” Peter gasped excitedly as soon as he had the cocoon in his hands. He didn’t know what it was, but as soon as he held the pulsing cocoon, he knew he had to take care of it.

“That’s a Swooping Evil, Wormtail, you are not keeping him,” Remus said with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s take it to the DADA classroom, let the Professor deal with him.”

“It’s a her,” Peter said, holding the cocoon close to his chest and glaring at Remus, “And I am keeping her.” After a pause, he added quietly: “What’s a Swooping Evil?” 

 

None of them figured out how it had gotten there or survived on its own so far, but from that day on Peter had a new pet. She wasn’t too entertaining when they were alone, but they got more than a few laughs either making her come out of her cocoon right next to an unsuspecting student or simply by telling a Muggle-born what she was. ‘Swooping Evil’ scared people in a rather funny way.

~

Spring, as always, had not-so-mysteriously brought love into the air. Hormones that made teenagers randy, to be more accurate. Anybody already part of a couple was whispering sweet nothings into each others ears (which, for teenagers, usually meant loud and often colorful declarations of love in front of the whole school). The upperclassmen were getting handsy with each other to the point that Flitwick had charmed the greenhouses to randomly get wet with rain at the Herbology professor’s request, and Filch was at the end of his rope, begging Dumbledore to get rid of broom closets in the entire castle because he was only one man and could not check them all constantly.

Even Peter, who was the shyest of them all, was snogging a fifth-year out in the open by the lake, a few feet away from the rest of the Marauders. James and Lily were only sharing chaste kisses which was, Sirius and Remus assumed (correctly), by Lily’s choice, not their friend’s.

“I am going to lose my bloody _mind_ because of that gorgeous doe,” James moaned not even a minute after Lily had bid them goodbye to join her friends by the courtyard.

Sirius smirked. Remus sat up, shaking grass out of his hair and looked at James carefully. “Lily not, ah, allowing your advances?”

“Maybe she’s frigid,” Sirius said excitedly before James got a chance to reply.

James’ glare was harsh but Sirius didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his grin grew wider.

“She’s not— It’s not like that,” James mumbled, looking towards the courtyard.

“What’s it like, then?” Sirius asked, not a hint of sincerity in his voice.

“She…” James paused to sigh, and scratched the side of his cheek, drawing his glasses up a little and making them crooked. Remus found the nervous gesture endearing and wondered if James knew that he did it.

“Doesn’t want you?” his best friend supplied unhelpfully.

James furrowed his eyebrows and glared at Sirius again. Remus wondered if, in his place, Sirius would have growled. It seemed like the kind of thing he would do.

“She _does_ and that makes it _harder_ , actually,” he said thoughtfully, looking at Remus now instead of Sirius.

“Yeah, I get _harder_ when Remus wants me, too,” Sirius joked, unwilling to let the conversation get serious.

Remus punched his boyfriend on the shoulder lightly to show his disapproval. “She’s holding herself back then? Until-marriage, kind of thing? Traditional?” he asked.  
“Sort of,” James answered, looking relieved that somebody was taking him seriously. “The way she talks about sex when she’s with us or her friends is very open-minded but when it comes to herself…” He looked towards the courtyard again. “If we snog she gets nervous it’ll go too far and stops immediately. Which is weird because she _has_ had boyfriends before and - to my intense displeasure - kissed them thoroughly. With me she’s holding back. I’m not asking for much here, I’d settle for a nice, long snog. Hopefully with some hand wandering.” Even when he was describing the intimate acts, he seemed more confused and sad than horny.

“But she wants to,” Remus repeated James’ earlier words.

“Oh I know she does. She—” he started, then cut himself off. “I just know that she does, I’m not sharing that kind of detail about my future wife.”

“Oh? Getting married, are you?” Sirius asked, sounding interested, finally.

“Eventually,” James replied, not skipping a beat. He seemed so certain it made Remus look at Sirius and wonder about _their_ future. “Of course we need some more time, I understand that. I asked her to live with me after school but she said her parents would murder her if she did that before getting married. She’s moving in with Marlene, though, and said we will see each other plenty.”

~

“Hi Remus,” Lyall said, and his fake smile was apparent even through the flames.

“Hello.”

“I don’t know how much time we have,” his father started, then sighed, “So I will get to it.”

Remus nodded, appreciating his directness. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“I asked Percival for the newest version of the regulations regarding living arrangements of werewolves, and he kindly sent them to me free of charge, along with several bills that have been passed since I left that he thought I might find useful.” He paused, and Remus knew he was gathering courage. “It is worse than I thought.”

“Worse?” Remus asked with a shaky voice. He had almost expected to not be allowed to live alone but his father’s behavior indicated something more dreadful. “I can’t live alone?” he asked, hoping that was the end of it.

“You… can…” his father said slowly and the werewolf could almost see him shifting uncomfortably. “But it is difficult. They do random visits for at least a year, usually more, and a silver cage must be bought through the Ministry as proof of safe transformation chambers. And…” He paused again, and closed his eyes. “At least one wizard - not blood related - would have to vouch for you.” He opened his eyes, and looked at Remus sternly. “It is similar to a bank loan - when they vouch for you, they accept full responsibility for whatever may happen due to your living arrangements. If you bite someone, they get fined, and so on. Similar to…” He let his voice trail off.

“To owning a pet,” Remus said dryly. He sighed, but was not too bothered. He was already thinking James would be willing to do that. If he bit someone, he would have bigger worries than James getting a fine that his Gringott’s account wouldn’t even feel. “I see. That is it?”

“There are actually some things I did not realize,” his father said, looking embarrassed, “Apparently once you leave Hogwarts - regardless of your living arrangements - since Dumbledore will not directly be responsible for you any more, you will have to be - er - I think the term they used was being passed on to Ministry Care.”

“What does that mean?” Remus asked with a pout.

“They— They need to tag you, and check on you regularly to ensure you are - well - _safe_.”

“Tag me?” Remus gasped. “With… with what? A tag on the ear the way they do with cows?” He felt sick. He hadn’t thrown up due to emotion in years as far as he could remember, and he was about to do so now, as an adult.

“I almost wish,” Lyall scowled. He shook his head. “It’s a tattoo of sorts. Magical, of course. I don’t know where they place it but that part should not matter to them, as it is connected to them with magic, therefore visibility is not a concern.”

Remus gulped. Thoughts were flying through his mind, as well as unpleasant images.

“And Remus…” his father started again, his voice heavy with sadness, “There are _many_ rules regarding seeking employment, as well as separate taxes and procedures to be followed whilst employed. Some even if it is a Muggle job.” He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger in exasperation. “Glad we looked into this now, the fines on not following the rules are nothing to laugh off.” He looked Remus in the eyes again. “I am owling you a copy of everything he gave me. I just wanted to speak to you in person, first. Didn’t seem like the kind of news you can deliver by owl…”

“I appreciate that,” Remus whispered.

Afterwards, Remus asked how his mother was doing, and they spent a couple of minutes talking about unimportant things, but neither of them was able to shake off the horrible feeling that now sat on their chests.

And it only got worse, once Remus received the material his dad had owled. It was hundreds of pages (that Remus read in secret when no other Marauder was around) and most of it seemed devoted to ensuring that a werewolf could not survive on their own, and perhaps _barely_ managed if “sponsored”. A sponsor was heavily encouraged throughout the texts. Remus wondered if this was to allow for Death Eaters to own werewolves to do with as they would. After all, the references to sponsorship made it sound like the werewolf’s life would be so entangled in the wizard or witch’s that if such an arrangement was made, the human would practically own the werewolf.

While reading through the material and pondering about his future, Remus started to withdraw from his friends, and mostly Sirius. He couldn’t stop thinking about how this would affect him. Being discriminated against, being forced to live a tougher life by the Ministry just because they could— Remus could handle it, he knew he could. But Sirius… Nothing had ever been difficult for him, not in this way. His family was horrible but the rest of the world was Sirius’ oyster.

Could Remus do this to Sirius? Beautiful, brilliant Sirius who had a promising life ahead of him that would surely be worsened by open affiliation with a werewolf? He knew Sirius wanted to be an Auror - how would that work, with a werewolf lover? He would probably never get the respect or promotions he would earn.

And above all else, all these rules about where Remus could live and the seemingly-constant visits the Ministry would pay them, violating their privacy thoroughly… Could Remus do that to Sirius? Didn’t Sirius deserve to have a normal life - a fantastic one, in fact - away from all these hardships that had nothing to do with him?

Unfortunately, although his withdrawal was more about himself than Sirius, his boyfriend took it as Remus not wanting to be with him. Every Hogsmeade date Remus refused or “Maybe not today, Padfoot, let’s go watch James’ practice” he uttered made Sirius frustrated and upset until he started brooding the days away, much like Remus was. Remus, thinking about how he should break up with Sirius to spare him the pain of living with a werewolf lover and Sirius thinking of how the love of his life didn’t want him anymore.

~

It was a particularly hot May afternoon when the Marauders decided the weather demanded a break from their duties. James pawned off his Head Boy rounds to a Prefect and Remus canceled his revision plans with Ella. They went down to the lake and were playing Exploding Snap when Remus caught Sirius staring at something. He turned around and saw that it was Matthew, a muggle-born Ravenclaw who had just made Chaser on their team this year. He joined him and Ella sometimes at the library if they were going over Defense Against the Dark Arts. He thought about waving hello but saw that he was looking back at Sirius.

Sirius smiled and nodded at Matthew, then turned his gaze back to the game and finally took his turn. James and Peter were looking at him oddly, but neither made a comment. Peter flipped a card and yelped as it blew up.

“You’re out, Wormy!” James chuckled and the game continued until Sirius took too long to take his turn again.

Peter went back to playing with Hex - his Swooping Evil - and did not seem bothered by being out of the game. James and Remus watched Hex’s colorful wings for a few moments before James got frustrated at having to wait for his turn for too long, again.

“What’s up with you today, Padfoot?” James asked, but Remus felt like he didn’t want to.

“Nothing,” Sirius replied airily, “Sorry about that, mate.” He made his move. Safe again. “Just thinking…” He glanced at Remus. “I think I’ll ask Matthew to Longbottom’s birthday party.”

The werewolf almost - almost - couldn’t help but choke noisily. Instead, ever composed, he blinked slowly at his boyfriend. He was surprised Sirius even knew Matthew’s first name. “Like a date?” he asked and was grateful for his self-control that allowed him to keep his voice from breaking like some First Year with a crush.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, running his fingers through his hair and looking around, his eyes not landing on anything or person for more than a second. He didn’t look nervous - he was Sirius Black, after all - but there was an awkward air around the group. James put his cards down and looked between his two friends with worry in his eyes.

Just when Remus opened his mouth to say something (although he didn’t know what), Lily flopped down next to James and gave him a kiss, and all the Marauders turned to the couple.

“Sorry I took so long!” she said happily, pulling her hair back. When James simply nodded with a small smile, she sensed the tension around her and looked at the boys, confused. “What is it?” she said. “Is it— Did something happen again?” she asked, her voice getting darker as she spoke, afraid that there was news again of death.

“No Lily, don’t worry,” Remus said, before James could say anything. “It’s nothing.”

He got up and left. They didn’t talk about it, but Sirius did not take Matthew to Frank’s birthday party that weekend. Whether he had been turned down or never asked, Remus didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. They had had a good run, hadn’t they? It had certainly been longer than anybody had ever hoped Sirius Black to hang on to a relationship for. In fact, when they first got together, every week somebody or another would ask Remus how it was going so they could place their bets accordingly. Nobody had guessed anything this far into their seventh year, so he did not get those inquiries anymore. One bet that was still outstanding was the nature of their breakup. He hadn’t asked to find out every potential bet, but he knew that several of them included Remus lashing out and doing something to Sirius’ hair or face. One of them said Remus would kill himself after. He had snorted after hearing that one. He hadn’t survived this long as a werewolf to kill himself over a boy. Even Sirius Black.

Yes, it made sense that as school ended, so would their relationship. He had already been thinking of how different life would be for him, and how he didn’t want to bring Sirius into it in that way. Remus would move back with his parents, Sirius and James would move in together until James either convinced Lily’s parents somehow (not likely, according to Lily) or tied the knot. Peter had already found a flat close to the Ministry as he would be interning there. It was a tiny place - a box, really - but it was the most sensible thing to do seeing as how he would not be earning much from his time there.

They would likely try to make the full moons at the Lupins’ for at least a few months. However long it would take for them to get too busy for it. Remus had faith that they would stay friends, but couldn’t see them meeting up more than once a week - maybe twice - at Hogsmeade for a few beers. Life would move on for them, after all. He knew how busy people with regular jobs were. His parents rarely went out, not even to camp which was something they both enjoyed.

When Sirius confronted him about Matthew, Remus had been expecting it. Well, he had been expecting the fight, not exactly that Matthew’s name would come up again. He was ready for it, this break-up.

“Moony?” Sirius asked too-innocently as he sat down on his bed, facing Remus’.

“Yes Padfoot?” Remus replied, putting down his book and smiling at his boyfriend. His smile dropped when he saw Sirius had chocolate ice-cream floating next to him. With a wave, Sirius sent the bowl his way. Remus frowned.

“I didn’t go to Frank’s birthday with Matthew,” Sirius said slowly.

“I know,” Remus said, and smiled sadly at the bowl floating next to him, charmed to not melt.

 _Merlin,_ Remus thought, _Doesn’t he know that the cliche’ is that_ ** _I_** _go out and buy the ice-cream, and cry as I read old romance novels?_

“You didn’t ask me to go with you,” the raven-haired boy said with a small sigh, and kept looking at Remus expectantly.

“We—” the werewolf started, then stopped. ‘We are boyfriends, we don’t ask each other on dates like two strangers’ he had wanted to say, but thought better of it. “I didn’t realize I had to ask,” he said instead.

“You didn’t even dance with me,” Sirius’ said sternly.

“I just… It felt like you didn’t want to be with me.” He didn’t know why he said it. He had no right to feel slighted when he himself had been avoiding Sirius. Still, Sirius looking at Matthew had hurt.

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. “ _Me_? Not wanting to be with _you_? You didn’t even care that I was going to ask him out,” Sirius said, getting angry. Then he paused, and lowered his voice before continuing. “Didn’t you want to spend the night with me? Drinking, dancing… I might have sung, even…”

Remus shrugged. “You are your own person. I won’t force you to spend time with me,” he answered honestly. Why was Sirius dragging this out? What point was there to fighting? He could play the jealous boyfriend, demand to know what had happened with Matthew to put that blasted smile on his face that day by the lake. But it would do no good. He could feel it in his bones that this was over already, and he wished Sirius would just say the words so he could take a kip.

“You never make an effort to spend time with me. You don’t even tell me when you go off somewhere anymore. We don’t have the Map, you know I can’t find you easily. What’s the point of all this?” he said, tired. He looked at Sirius and found that, oddly, he didn’t need to avert his gaze. He felt calm and collected. He stared at Sirius’ flaring nostrils and eyes on the edge of tears. His cheeks were red, too, from the frustration he appeared to be feeling.

Sirius didn’t seem willing to take that final step. _He had brought the ice-cream, avoided Remus for months now, but he just could not say the words. Remus would just have to take that burden too._

“Maybe a relationship wasn’t a great idea…”

“Fuck this!” Sirius shouted, voice breaking. “It was an amazing idea!” He paused, and his voice dropped to a conversational level in an instant. “Don’t you feel what I feel? Doesn’t it feel different with me than anybody else?”

“You know it does,” Remus replied. They had both said as much to each other, honestly, many times. The pull between them was undeniable. Remus didn’t have the experience that Sirius did but even from others’ kisses he knew that they could never live up to the chemistry between Sirius and him.

“I don’t understand. We have bloody good sex, we make each other laugh, we are literally part of the same friend group… How could there be a better recipe for a relationship?” He seemed to be asking the questions to himself as well as Remus.

Remus didn’t reply for a painfully long while. Sirius was right. Sirius was more handsome than any boy of eighteen had any right to be. He was so intelligent that seventh-year Ravenclaws had looked at him for answers since Fifth Year. He was so much fun to be around that Remus couldn’t imagine the Marauders even existing without him, even with James being so similar to Sirius. He was the exciting Bad Boy, never a dull moment with him. Sirius didn’t lack affection, either. Not since they had officially become a couple. Their dates were somehow always compromising for each other while being fun for both of them. Each felt cared for without the other sacrificing too much. It was impossibly perfect, a sappy love story if there ever was one. Even Sirius’ Animagus form was a canine like the wolf. There was no part of them that didn’t fit like a jigsaw puzzle.

But Remus couldn’t think about that. He had to focus. They had to break it off, hopefully amicably enough to stay friends. He had to let Sirius go.

“Merlin, what a joke,” Sirius hissed and finally looked away from his silent boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?). “Sirius Black is begging to be in a relationship. Who would have thought?” he continued darkly.

“You’re not begging,” Remus said quickly. He really wasn’t. He was asking for reasonable things, whenever they rowed. Like Remus actually telling him if he was going to spend the whole day at the library, or if he had made plans already to go to Hogsmeade with Lily instead of the Marauders. Or complain if Sirius made plans without him, show some reaction to being apart. Sirius just wanted Remus to show that he cared. But Remus couldn’t do that. If he did, he couldn’t pretend that they were growing apart. He couldn’t let Sirius go. Even now, even with Sirius angry at him, it was difficult.

Sirius shot him a glare before turning away again. “You’re not even going to deny it, are you? That you don’t want to be with me? That you don’t— That you don’t love me.”

“I _do_ love you,” Remus said, because it was true.

“But you don’t want to be with me?” Sirius was pursing his lips and staring angrily at the bag on the floor as if it had done something to offend him. Remus wondered if he was thinking about his family.

“Is it because of what I did?” Sirius’ voice was small, and Remus found himself feeling even worse the second he heard him speak. So that’s what he had been thinking about.

The werewolf sighed. “No, no it’s not. We’re over that, I told you.”

Sirius looked at him with puppy eyes which were, for once, not intentional on the raven-haired boy’s part. “Is it because I’m not— What did Evans call it? — ‘Relationship material’?” There was more to his words, but Remus wouldn’t find out what until long after this conversation.

After a moment of surprised silence, Remus let out a dark chuckle. “I think it’s me that isn’t,” he said and it felt good to say the words, because they were true as well. One more thing to add to the list of why Remus Lupin would never have a family, with Sirius or anybody else.

Sirius considered this, but the fact that he wasn’t immediately denying it was all the confirmation needed, really. He sighed, shaking his head. “We’re a bloody mess,” he said.

“So we are,” Remus agreed, a sad smile on his lips.

“Will you be ok?” Sirius asked and Remus wanted to kiss him right then. Even now, he was worried about _him_. What was he going to do without this boy?

“Of course,” he reassured him. Then, after a pause: “When do we tell the others?”

Pain flashed in Sirius’ eyes and Remus hated himself for being so pragmatic. He was just thinking of the steps to take now that they would not be together anymore. Didn’t mean his chest wasn’t in pain or that he wasn’t going to cry later that night. He didn’t know how to show deep emotions like Sirius did.

“James will know right away,” the raven-haired boy said with a shrug, “No point trying to get away from it. And even lovesick-Wormy will notice when I start using my own bed again.” Sirius’ voice shook towards the end of his sentence but Remus was too preoccupied with the words themselves to notice it consciously. The werewolf didn’t point out that sleeping apart would not be an obvious sign, not since they had taken to falling asleep separately several times a week.

 _‘Using my own bed again’_ , he repeated in his mind, _We won’t sleep together anymore. At all._

He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of not touching Sirius again. This would mean they would never kiss? Never cuddle? Never wake up in each other’s arms and grind away their morning erections with sloppy movements and lazy, morning-breath kisses?

“We could still, you know,” he found himself saying urgently, “Sleep together.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him and Remus now knew what Regulus must feel like every time Sirius gave him that ‘are you a pillock’ look.

“Why not?” he challenged, too needy to be embarrassed. He didn’t want to stop touching Sirius.

“I can’t, Moony,” Sirius said gently. He seemed to know that Remus really didn’t understand the reason. “It would hurt too much. I can’t have you that close and _not have you_.”

 _Of course_ , Remus thought, feeling like an idiot, _You can’t say you don’t want to be with someone and then also keep sleeping with them. Maybe I should… But that’s a stupid reason to stay together, isn’t it? Since I will have to break it off anyway, as soon as we graduate?_

“We’re really— Is it really over, then?” he asked.

Sirius let out a deep sigh, his whole torso moving. “I was hoping you would say ‘no’,” he admitted. “Unless you want to try again and can tell me, honestly, that you want this relationship. Then… Then I guess it is.”

The werewolf sat down next to Sirius. They both stared ahead, letting their bodies touch lightly. He ran his fingers over Sirius’ hand. His impossibly soft skin and the harder, bony knuckles he had touched and had been touched by so many times before… He wondered if he would ever feel these hands again. When they hugged, presumably. Perhaps at Lily and James’ wedding.

Before he knew it, Remus was sobbing. In a flash, Sirius had cradled him in his arms - pressing his head to his chest a bit awkwardly as they were almost the same height. Sirius held Remus as he wept.

“Just— Not touching you again— Not— That this is the last time—” the werewolf sobbed between his heaving breaths. Sirius was quiet, but holding him firmly. Remus was beyond caring how girly he was being, or how embarrassed he should be about all this.

Sirius kissed Remus’ forehead so gently he almost didn’t feel it.

“We will stay friends, won’t we, Padfoot?” he whispered when his tears died down, voice hoarse from crying.

“Of course, Moony. Couldn’t stop me if you tried,” Sirius whispered back, stroking Remus’ hair.

And like that, they were Moony & Wormtail, and Padfoot & Prongs once more. People stopped mentioning Sirius and Remus together in sentences, and although their natural seating habits didn’t change after so many years, there was no longer an arm wrapped around Remus’ shoulders when they chatted in the common room after tea.

The last password they had to enter the Gryffindor dormitories before they left Hogwarts for good was “toska” and Remus almost laughed when McGonagall informed them.

 _How fitting_ , he thought. He glanced around at the other Prefects who didn’t care about what the new password was, and wondered if any of them knew the meaning of it.

 _Anguish, indeed_ , the werewolf thought as he walked back into the common room to let the students know of the update. He looked at Sirius who was behind a second-year, moving his wand gracefully as he quietly cut a square on the poor boy’s robes, right where it would show his pants if his trousers were cut too. James was giggling next to him.

Remus felt his heart skip a beat as it always did when he saw Sirius, even when he expected the sight. He could wake up and look straight at Sirius’ bed, and still his body would react as if shocked by the raven-haired boy’s presence.

He wondered if he would ever stop loving him.

 

He hoped he would.


	14. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos so far! :) Here's another update. Only Autumn this time, because Winter will have Remus' tagging and I want to handle that separately.

**1978, Fall**

 

**_“There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.”_ **

_― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close_

 

It was awkward. Gods, it was awkward for so long Remus seriously considered to perhaps stop the facade’ of casual friendship completely. Then, the NEWTs came along and in the whirlwind of revising and graduation, Sirius and Remus managed to be somewhat normal around each other again. They stopped instinctively trying to hold (or grope) the other, and Sirius even went on a few dates before leaving Hogwarts.

The key to Remus relaxing had been to convince himself thoroughly that they should never have been a couple. Every time he went to his bed alone wanting to turn around and beg Sirius to take him back, he thought about how weird it had been that they’d been together in the first place. Sirius Bad Boy Black, with Remus Bookworm Lupin. They hadn’t made sense at all. Even if you got over their completely different personalities and extracurricular activities - assuming pranking was enough of a hobby to stay together - Sirius was rich and privileged and beautiful. He would never understand Remus, nor Remus him.

Even after all these years Remus would end up explaining how a bus works to him or Sirius would casually swap Remus’ forks when he used the wrong one at a restaurant. The gap between them was palpable, his lycanthropy notwithstanding. Opposites attract but they had tried to make a _relationship_ out of it. _What nonsense_ , Remus told himself.

In fact, his dark-haired friend had probably never even wanted him, not in the same way that Remus had. He had been infatuated - there was no denying that - but a serious, committed relationship with a calm and rather boring person? How did that align with _anything_ that Sirius I-live-in-the-moment Black stood for? Could _anybody_ imagine Sirius Black getting old drinking tea and reading a book with Remus on the veranda?

The logical conclusion was that Sirius had been attracted to him and, knowing how Remus felt, had put as much effort as he could to having a proper relationship with him. If there was one thing Sirius was, it was thorough (when he actually wanted to do something). He was also a dedicated and loyal friend. Of course he would do this for Remus.

No wonder he had been so romantic, singing songs to him and sweeping him off of his feet. Remus thought back to how they had gotten together. How they had fooled around and snogged for ages until Remus had confessed. How Sirius had not shown any hint of romance until Remus himself had…

**_“I love you.”_ **

**_“Thank fuck.”_ **

Not the most normal ‘getting together’ story, even compared to James and Lily’s. Thin line between love and hate and all that. Although it had been rather surprising when Lily had finally given in, their romance wasn’t that unusual.

With enough time and insistence, Remus J. Lupin concluded that although it had been amazing while it lasted, his relationship with Sirius Black had been an anomaly, a pleasant - and long-lived - temporary state that he had enjoyed.

This conclusion did not help at all with how much he missed him, but it helped with the guilt of having caused the break-up in the first place.

 _It’s for his own good_ , he told himself, _He will be much happier, in the end._

~

The Marauders met every Tuesday in London - usually the Muggle side - for most of the summer, and owled even more often. Then, Sirius and James’ Auror training started, and Remus and Peter felt too awkward meeting just the two of them and did not meet up on Tuesdays if the other two boys were too busy. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other, they simply were not the type to spend hours chatting unless the dark-haired boys were there to force them to socialize.

Remus also preferred to take extra shifts at the club when he could, instead of going out. He was living with his family still - had to, for practical reasons - but needed the money desperately. He had six months after graduation to get tagged by the Ministry after which he would have to pay them a considerable amount of money quarterly. So he worked at a grocery shop during the day, and a club in the afternoons and nights. The grocery shop was giving him less hours than even the part-timer teenagers they had, but he was grateful for the extra money nevertheless. He wasn’t sure, but he thought his father had made that happen. When his friends asked, he only ever mentioned the club (and made sure to not tell them which one, saying they would get him fired), and assured them that this was only until he found a wizarding job. That was the only way for them to quit pestering him about wasting six ‘O’ NEWTs.

Once the most time-consuming “weeding out” portion of their training was done, Sirius and James started pulling the other two boys into crazy nights and days again. Sometimes they would relax and chat (Tuesdays, mostly, for tradition’s sake), but often one of the Trainee Aurors would insist on heaving a “special night” for one reason or another. Once, they had claimed that since Sirius managed to hex Moody - one of their superiors - during a mock battle, they needed to floo to Ireland and spend the weekend there hiking and drinking to celebrate. Unable to resist the adventure, Remus had complied, trying to push away thoughts of wasting time and money.

Unfortunately, while the less busy schedule of James and Sirius had lead to more entertainment in Remus’ life, it had also lead to Sirius having enough time and energy to socialize outside of their little circle. Which was to say that he was constantly having sex and almost never with the same person. More than a few times he had had quickies in bars while the Marauders waited for him to pick up a round of drinks for them.

And sometimes he would get drunk enough to hit on Remus, which the werewolf couldn’t decide if he hated or loved. His heart would flutter when Sirius would say something like “You look gorgeous tonight, Moony”, leaning in too close for his meaning to be unclear. But Remus had to gulp and look away, waving away the compliment because of _course_ he couldn’t do anything about it. He could not just have causal sex with Sirius. Sirius would have to keep doing that with strangers. It would break Remus’ heart to just have sex and walk away the next morning as if nothing had happened. Would Sirius even want to spend the whole night? Potentially not. Didn’t seem to with his other partners, at any rate.

So Remus would look away, ignore the flirty comments and have a good wank when he went back home, imagining Sirius had pulled _him_ into the men’s room at the pub and not a stranger.

~

Remus kept getting rejection letters from wizarding employers and had almost given up on ever using his Hogwarts education when, of all people, Professor Dumbledore owled him with an offer in late August.

“Cariad? Remus?” Hope called and Remus was startled by how close she was before he noticed her. She was barely five feet away. He knew he was at his most relaxed at home, but years of honing his perception should not have let him let his guard down so much, even in his own home. Not these days…

She put a cup of tea in front of him (“Ta” he mumbled), then raised an eyebrow pointedly at the letter in his hand. “Another letter from the wizards?” she asked. He couldn’t help but smile. She was _married_ to a wizard and yet still felt such an outsider. ‘Letter from the wizards’ indeed.

“Not a rejection owl, if that’s what you are oh-so-carefully asking, ma,” he said with a chuckle. He took a sip of his tea, thinking over his words. “Dumbledore - my old headmaster - needs some help. He wanted to hire me on a freelance basis.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news, isn’t it?” she said. Remus could hear that although she tried to sound cheerful, there was uncertainty in her tone. She loved his father but felt more comfortable keeping her son on ‘the Muggle side’ of things. It felt safer to her, particularly because of how they had been treating him for being a werewolf. If she only knew how dangerous being a Muggle was, these days… Remus and Lyall had been careful to only tell her the bare minimum about Voldemort; what was too obvious to hide.

“It doesn’t explain, not fully,” he said, a small line appearing between his eyebrows. He glanced at the letter on the table again. “He says I am ‘uniquely equipped to help’ and that preferably I would start by translating some letters from Gobbledeg— Errr, goblin-language.” He fought off a frown. He could think of at least two more gifted translators in his year alone. How was he ‘uniquely qualified’?

A twist in his stomach told him that there was only one thing that made him _unique_ among Hogwarts alumni… He couldn’t work out yet exactly how that would help Dumbledore.

“Reading and writing— Sounds like a job just for you,” Hope said, “And I like that you can do that from home.” She nodded, as if agreeing with herself.

Remus gave a small sigh. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. He would have to talk to his father. There was definitely a hint in Dumbledore’s letter that promised Remus would not be calmly translating boring books in the Lupin Cottage.

When Lyall came back home, Remus didn’t waste any time bringing up the subject. After a few pleasantries, he asked his father when Hope was in the kitchen: “Tad, have you spoken to Dumbledore lately?”

“Dumbledore?” Lyall asked with a curious expression.

“Yes. Well.” Remus had thought about it in the few hours between the letter and his father’s arrival. Pieces were fitting together in his head. “He works with Aurors, doesn’t he?”

“I’m not an Auror,” Lyall said, only to get a look from Remus that said that he knew very well Aurors and Magical Accidents employees worked together often. “Sometimes,” he let out.

Remus bit the side of his lip for the fraction of a second. “Sometimes,” he repeated. “He works with them to fight Voldemort, right?”

Lyall drew in a sharp breath at the mention of the word, but kept his expression calm. “Sometimes,” he said again evasively.

“Tad,” Remus sighed, “I am trying to talk to you about this.”

“I can see that,” Lyall said with a frown, “And I’d rather you stay out of it. Your job is Muggle and apart from your affiliation with the Black and Potter boys, you can very well stay out of this mess.”

“You know I can’t stay out of it,” Remus said, voice too casual and light to be natural. He sounded like James had when they were younger, trying to get information about Lily without sounding too interested. ‘Not important’ his voice tried to convey when it was anything but.

His father looked at the floor for several long seconds before looking up at Remus again. “What do you want to know?” he asked carefully.

“They…” Remus paused. “It can’t only be Aurors,” he said slowly, “That Dumbledore works with. Voldemort works in secret and at the very least they would need people to tail potential Death Eaters, maybe on-scene Healers for the Muggles, translators, things like that…” He had tried to sneak in the translation part but of course his father picked up on it, Remus could see it in his slightly raised eyebrow at the word. His heart beat a little faster, but his face was calm.

“St. Mungo’s has Healers that arrive just as swiftly as any other,” the older Lupin man said, looking around the room as if for inspiration, “But yes, Dumbledore _does_ work with others.” He took a deep breath through his nose. “Did you find a letter?”

“Find?” Remus asked, confused.

Lyall sighed. No point trying to hide it now. Whether he liked it or not, his son was of age and soon enough he would know about things Lyall wished he could be sheltered from, for ever. “He asked me to work for him. I thought perhaps you had found the letter,” he explained.

“When?”

“About six months ago, I think,” his father answered thoughtfully, “I remember it being a bloody cold day.”

Remus nodded, thinking about this information. “What did he ask you to do?”

Lyall looked confused for a moment, as if the information should have been obvious. He must have then remembered that Remus knew very little about what Dumbledore did, because his expression softened into an understanding one. “He has…” He hesitated. “Dumbledore has a team,” he explained, “But, even if I wanted to, I could not tell you the details. What little I know was trusted to me as a secret by Dumbledore.” He seemed relieved he had a valid reason not to say more than that.

They sat in silence while Remus digested this information. A secret team. So not one-off jobs. That made sense, he would need secrecy, loyalty and above all an organized, consistent force that would not happen with sporadic assignments. Was Dumbledore looking to recruit him?

_‘Your unique qualifications, Mr. Lupin, mean that I wish to speak to you as soon as you are available and will compensate accordingly.’_

He took a deep breath. “Do you think it is a bad idea?”

“The Or— Dumbledore’s team?”

“I suppose. Or joining it, at least,” Remus said, confirming what Lyall had suspected.

“Asked you to translate something, did he?”

“How did you know? Is that how he asked you?”

“No,” his father said, shaking his head, “But you mentioned translators before and that is not what most people think of when you think of war.” He sighed again, and looked at Remus with a hint of fear. “You have been a strong-willed boy, since you were very little, Remus. You may be quiet but that certainly has never stopped you from doing what you want and finding friends like yourself.”

 _How are the Marauders anything at all like me?_ Remus wondered, but did not interrupt his father.

“When you wanted to work during the summers not even Hope could stop you. And now, you are of age. We most certainly can’t pretend to be able to tell you what to do.”

His father was making him sound like a rebel, like Sirius. He was mild-mannered and studious. He had never seen himself as a strong-headed, rebellious child. He wondered how his parents truly saw him.

“But if you want my permission to join Dumbledore’s - er - _team_ , then I cannot give it to you in good conscience. The reason I didn’t join although I feel guilty for it every time I look at the Prophet is that I wanted to protect you two. If you join, Remus, inevitably you become a target as well as your family. I could not live with the thought of putting you two in bigger danger than you already were in.”

Remus’ eyes grew wide. He had not thought of it that way. Deaths of Muggles and Muggle-borns were all over the papers, but to think that Voldemort would target those who worked with Dumbledore… No wonder it was a big secret. He looked at the faded carpet in the middle of the room.

“So if I joined, I would put you two in danger,” he said quietly. Half-question, half-statement.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Lyall answered honestly, “It would depend on how covert your assignments were, and what they were in the first place. I doubt Death Eaters would find a translator if all you do is stay home and swap some parchments between yourself and a contact at Hogwarts or something along those lines.” He took a sip of water, buying himself time to think over his words. “Do you _want_ to join?”

“I want to fight,” he said without thinking. He hadn’t realized how sure he was of it until the words left his mouth. It had been Sirius and James talking about this before. He himself had never disagreed with their wish to fight against Voldemort, but hadn’t voiced it strongly as they had.

“ _Fight_?” his father repeated, “Not just help, but _fight_?”

The werewolf shrugged. “I don’t know what would help. But I… You know how many are dying. If I could be useful, if I could help even one person…”

“At the expense of putting your family in danger?” Lyall asked, but did not sound angry.

“You can’t tell me she’s not in danger _now_. Everybody in the Ministry knows you married a Muggle. And what _he_ thinks of that.”

 _Muddying the purity of wizarding blood,_ he thought but didn’t say as it was unnecessary.

“He has spies, he must,” Remus continued, “Because how else could he be killing and converting so many?”

“He does. But if we make no trouble…” Lyall said, but could not bring himself to finish the sentence and say that they would be safe. He couldn’t promise that. But it was also true that they would at least be safe- _r_ , and Remus could not deny that.

And yet, the thought of doing nothing bothered him. Before, he had thought it impossible to help. What would a scrawny werewolf do that hordes of Ministry officials hadn’t been able to, yet? But now Dumbledore was giving him a chance. There was a _team_ and he could be _part of it_ , regardless of his lycanthropy.

They were silent for a while.

“I will join,” Remus said quietly, but his voice was stern. “If he gives me the opportunity, I will join. And if all he wants is a few parchments translated, then I will sleep better knowing that maybe one attack was stopped thanks partially to my work.” He sounded proud and, he realized, he really felt that way.

Maybe there was a reason he had been Sorted into Gryffindor after all…

Lyall only nodded and smiled sadly at his son.

Remus arranged to meet with Dumbledore at the Shrieking Shack the next Tuesday, and to meet with the Marauders at Hogsmeade this time instead of Diagon Alley.

~

Remus arrived in the Shack just in time, and was surprised - and relieved - to see that Dumbledore was not there yet. He had been expecting to find him sat against one of the torn chairs or couches, waiting for Remus to enter the room.

Instead, Remus was alone in the shack. He sat down in front of the piano and pressed a few of the keys randomly. He heard footsteps in the distance.

“I’m afraid it has not been tuned in a long time,” Dumbledore said as he walked in. Remus smiled, unsurprised by his entrance.

“Hello, Headmaster,” he said lightly, getting up and reaching out for Dumbledore’s hand.

“I am an old man and forget things, Remus. But as far as I recall, you did graduate, didn’t you?” the old wizard responded cheerfully.

Remus chuckled as was expected of him. “’fraid I did, Professor. Old habits. Although it has barely been a few months, hard to cold it ‘old’.” He looked around the room. “Feels like I am still on summer break, and will go back to Hogwarts soon.”

Dumbledore nodded and smiled at the werewolf briefly. “I will not waste your time, Remus,” he said solemnly, “The matter at hand is too grievous to delay and I believe you have made plans with your friends to meet up shortly after this.” Remus didn’t bother asking how his old Headmaster knew that. Dumbledore had a way of always knowing things.

“What Tom— What Voldemort has started,” Dumbledore said, “Is now a war. I am not sure if you have heard it referred to like that before. The Ministry certainly does not call it that. They would rather treat him and his followers as particularly crafty criminals, instead of a true - and powerful - opponent.”

“You think it is a civil war?” Remus asked, knowing the answer.

“He must be stopped, Remus,” the old wizard said with a flash of sadness in his eyes before calm determination returned, “And the Ministry alone could not do it, even if they were determined. They are not equipped to fight the way Voldemort does.”

“And you are?” he asked slowly, when Dumbledore did not continue talking.

“Not by myself and even with the help I have gotten so far - and am grateful for - it is a long and difficult road ahead of us before he is defeated.”

Remus took a deep breath, and gathered his courage. There was something about Dumbledore that always made him nervous, even when he knew he was doing the right thing. Might have been all the times they got called into his office for pranking. “How can I help?” he asked. “You mentioned some translations… What else?”

“You are a smart wizard, Remus,” the old wizard said softly, looking into Remus’ eyes and making him feel like he was looking into his soul, somehow.

Oddly, Remus found himself thinking about an article he had seen a few weeks ago. Two trolls had been sighted in North Scotland, in a Muggle town.

 _Ah, Legilimency. Of course_ , he thought, smiling to himself. He looked up and nodded at Dumbledore.

“I would be grateful if you could join my team - we call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Due to my unique talent,” Remus said sarcastically.

“You have many talents, Remus,” Dumbledore said gently, “But yes, your position does put you in a good spot for communication.”

“My position,” Remus repeated, thinking it over. He looked around the room as he thought. Trolls… Remus, being a werewolf, was much less likely to be attacked when handling Beasts. A unique ‘ _position_ ’ indeed. He looked up at the headmaster again. “I will do it.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Thank you, Remus,” he said, “Our next meeting is at Hera’s Haunt. I believe you know where that is.” He waited for the werewolf to confirm with a nod. “Ten days from now, before dawn. There are a few other new members. We can go over communication protocols and such then for all of you.”

Suddenly, the rest of the world existed again in Remus’ mind.

“My friends,” he said, “Sirius and James and Peter.”

“I know of them,” Dumbledore said, obviously having expected the question that Remus had not asked yet.

“Will you ask them, too? I know Sirius and James want to—”

“They are training to be Aurors, are they not?”

“But you said yourself the Ministry isn’t equipped in the right way. And I know you work with Aurors as well, so it stands to reason there are a few in your Order.”

“There are a few,” Dumbledore said enigmatically, still refusing to answer Remus.

There was silence for as long as Remus could let it. Understanding dawned sooner than he would have liked.

“I can’t tell them,” he whispered.

“No,” Dumbledore shook his head. “But they will be asked too, so the Order will no longer be a secret from them for long. I will need a different kind of support from them. Mr. Potter will shortly be asked by his father, actually. It took a long time to convince Fleamont but what can I say, James Potter is insistent.”

“James knew,” Remus said, wanting confirmation of this veiled piece of information Dumbledore had told him.

“Living in the same house does not allow for things to keep hidden for long, does it?” the old wizard said lightly. “He has been pestering poor Fleamont for weeks now. And of course, if Mr. Potter joins, there is no point trying to keep Mr. Black away.” He paused. “Mr. Pettigrew, as well, will join soon I imagine. We need more than frontline fighters.”

Remus had been about to ask about himself being recruited first when Dumbledore said ‘frontline fighters’. His eyes grew a fraction at the thought. “They will—” he started, then took a breath to compose himself. This was not the time to look afraid, regardless of how he felt. “They will fight, then,” he asked, “Sirius and James? With— With Death Eaters?”

“We all do,” Dumbledore said quickly and honestly. They let the silence confirm that yes, Sirius and James would be expected to put their lives in danger in a way (and frequency) that Peter was not going to be expected to.

For the first time in a very long time, Remus felt truly scared. The worry he felt for his Muggle mother was distant and a ‘what if’ - but Sirius and James… This wasn’t training to be an Auror - or even being an actual Junior Auror. They were going to fight Death Eaters. Maybe even Voldemort himself.

His stomach twisted, and he forced himself to smile at Dumbledore. “I understand,” he said lightly. “Thank you for recruiting me, Headmaster.”

“Please, call me Albus.”

Just before they left the Shack, Dumbledore turned to Remus and gave him a meaningful look. “Remus,” he said softly, “Even when they join, you cannot tell them.”

He didn’t need to explain further. The werewolf nodded.

~

“Ah, to see daylight again!” James sighed happily as they walked down Hogsmeade. “And all these memories from our youth,” he said, looking around. “Remember when we used to come here in the weekends?”

“It has barely been a few months, Potter,” Black snorted, rolling his eyes. “Dial down the nostalgia a bit, will you?” He glanced at Remus for a second before turning to Peter. “Want a Butterbeer, Wormy? Prongs is being a bore and insisting on not drinking.”

“I want to enjoy this nice warm day outside,” James insisted, giving Peter a look that made sure the blond would not agree to go inside. James turned back to Sirius. “You and I both need to have fresh air and see sunlight. I’m afraid I’m getting as pasty as a Black with all this lack of sun. You don’t want to look like your father, do you?”

Sirius scowled in disgust. The Blacks were, indeed, often very white and Sirius had worked hard to ensure his skin was always at least slightly tanned. After Hogwarts, though, his time outside playing Quidditch and messing around had drastically decreased. James had a point.

Remus tried not to notice that the lack of the tell-tale redness of sun burn on Sirius’ cheeks actually suited him. Yes, he looked paler but it matched his aristocratic cheekbones in a way that a boyish blush didn’t always.

Then again, Sirius could be charmed dark blue and Remus would find something attractive about it. He looked away and tried not to think about how Sirius’ hair was shining under the pleasant sunlight.

“Fine,” Sirius conceded after an odd look at Remus.

 _Bollocks,_ Remus thought, _He noticed me looking at him._

“You must, in turn, buy me and my love some snacks and beverages to snack on. We can go to the hill behind the Shack to relax on the grass there.”

James’ eyebrows shot up, and he stopped walking for a second. “Er—” he said, looking between the two boys. Remus’ cheeks were red. “Are you— Did you two— What?” he spluttered.

“Are you two back together?” Peter asked, just as surprised as James was.

“Not yet,” Sirius said, and waggled his eyebrows at Remus. Then, as if this had not been embarrassing enough, he put a sloppy kiss on the side of the werewolf’s cheek, leaving it wet with saliva. “Soon!” he declared, afterwards.

James rolled his eyes. “Leave poor Moony alone,” he said, “But alright, I will get you food.”

Remus wiped the saliva off of his cheek with a frown. He had to admit he loved getting touched and kissed by Sirius but even for him a wet cheek was not pleasant.

“Let’s go to Honeyduke’s first,” Peter said, nodding towards the shop that was right next to them.

“Don’t forget the Chocolate Wands!” Sirius called out, pulling Remus by the hand and away from the other two. “We’ll wait by the hill!”

For all his cheerfulness and flirting before, Sirius was very quiet when they arrived. They hiked up the small hill quickly and sat down. Sirius didn’t sit close enough for their legs to touch, but he kept looking at Remus. Not with lust like he did sometimes when he was drunk, but with what Remus could only describe as surprise, and perhaps shyness. He was also fidgeting.

“Forgotten to talk to me when we’re alone?” Remus asked, amused. “Suppose it _has_ been a while, hasn’t it? Always Prongs or Wormtail around.”

Sirius frowned. “I’m just tired, is all,” he lied, “This training is so brutal I forgot how to just sit and relax.”

“I thought nothing was too difficult for the Great Sirius Black,” Remus teased, choosing to ignore his friend’s lie.

“I didn’t say it was _difficult_ ,” Sirius scoffed, puffing up his chest. “Just… Very time-consuming. Can barely talk to anybody that isn’t James. Even with him, we’re mostly talking about how badly we got hexed or scolded by Moody that day.”

Remus hummed - in agreement or disagreement even he couldn’t tell - and they settled back into silence, this time a less awkward one.

After the other Marauders joined them, Remus caught Sirius staring at him again a few times, but didn’t make anything of it until later that night.

~

Remus was buying a round of Firewhiskey for his friends - after having carefully kept track of his spending all week and that night to ensure he could spare it - when Sirius walked up to him. He had sensed it as soon as he had gotten up from their table and started approaching the bar, but had not known that his walk was towards Remus until Sirius stood right next to him.

“Hi Moony,” he said, voice hoarse and a bit slurred from drinking.

“Hey Padfoot,” he responded, raising an eyebrow and sparing him a quick glance before turning his gaze back to Rosmerta who was pouring their drinks.

“Moony,” Sirius repeated, and it sounded like a plea.

Remus looked at Sirius, mouth hanging open slightly and eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Sirius reached out to hold Remus’ jaw. The werewolf’s body tensed. What was going on?

Before Remus had a chance to think about it, Sirius’ lips were on his. The Animagus quickly took advantage of Remus’ parted lips and pushed his tongue in. He pulled Remus close - one hand on the small of his back, the other on his left shoulder blade. He kissed Remus deeply and passionately and Remus - as ashamed of himself as he was - did not stop him and in fact responded. He hoped nobody had heard his small moan into the kiss.

When they broke apart, Sirius wasn’t grinning like Remus had been expecting. He looked, well, serious. He stared into Remus’ eyes - his eyes interestingly devoid of the glassy look drunks get - and licked his lips, savoring the taste left behind.

“What was that?” Remus asked, heart clenching. He couldn’t do this. Could he?

“A kiss, Remus,” Sirius said but there was no teasing in his tone. Merlin, how Remus loved hearing his name roll off that tongue.

“But I—” Remus started, but was cut off quickly.

“Let’s make it work,” Sirius said but his voice was shaky and he sounded nothing like the cock-sure Sirius Black that everybody knew him as. “Let’s— I don’t want to be without you any more.”

Remus carefully twisted out of Sirius’ embrace, carefully not looking at his face. He could see the hurt expression in his peripheral vision, though. It was impossible to miss. Sirius looked like he was about to cry, almost.

For a moment, Remus wondered if he could. He looked at Rosmerta as she put down the glasses in front of him. “Ta, Rosmerta,” he whispered, looking at the glasses but not picking them up just yet.

“Anytime, dear,” she said and walked away.

Sirius was still watching him intently, with that kicked-puppy expression.

_Could I?_

He thought about how much he had saved so far. Almost a hundred Galleons. That would pay for his tag and at least two months of taxes afterwards. And now Dumbledore was going to pay him. He might be able to not be a burden after all…

“Say something, Remus,” Sirius said, hand moving towards Remus again, then stopping halfway in well-placed hesitation.

Remus turned to Sirius to say something - he wasn’t sure what - when he saw an unexpected view. Sirius no longer looked like a kicked puppy. If anything, he looked like an angry Rottweiler, or a wolf who had a scent of prey.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing at Remus’ left hand.

“What?” Remus asked, then looked at his hand. “Oh. Right.” He shook his head. “Silly, really,” he sighed. He knew he looked visibly uncomfortable, but had enough alcohol in him to not care too much.

“Doesn’t look silly,” Sirius frowned, his speech stronger now. He ran a finger down the scar on Remus’ thumb.

Remus instinctively pulled his hand away. “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, and levitated the glasses, ready to head back to the table.

“Remus, what happened?” Sirius asked dangerously, and Remus knew he wouldn’t let it go.

The werewolf bit his lower lip nervously before speaking. “It’s…” He sighed. “I got a letter from the Ministry. They… They have silver dust in their seal.” _When they send owls to werewolves,_ he didn’t add. Whether Sirius could guess that or not, now he looked even more furious.

“Bloody lunatics,” he growled and Remus almost smiled at the irony of the word choice. “They _know_ and they still—” He held Remus’ hand again, then looked into his eyes with determination. “Do _not_ open any letters from them any more, Remus. Just… Just ask me or your father or— Don’t get hurt.”

And like that, Remus’ decision was made. No, Sirius could not handle living with a werewolf. If a mere reminder to register enraged him so, what was he going to say when he heard about the tag that was tattooed with silver and enchanted with tracking magic to ensure any shred of privacy he had the illusion of disappeared completely.

“Sirius,” he said, as gently as he could muster, “It’s not a good idea. Us.”

Sirius finally looked away from his hand. He looked hurt again, for a moment, before looking resigned. He shrugged with one shoulder, and pursed his lips. He looked like he wanted to insist, but Remus looked away and started walking towards their table, not looking back.

Sirius went home with a particularly well-endowed girl that night.

And when Sirius tried to kiss Remus again, two weeks later, he was quick to stop it and Apparate away. He didn’t need the temptation.

~

Life got into a monotonous - if rather gloomy - rhythm and before Remus knew it, it was almost Christmas. James and Lily were discussing plans and insisting all the Marauders celebrate it together “as a family.”

Remus had stopped working at the grocery store as he needed the time to work for the Order. The meetings were brief and the money not substantial, but the time required for both was surprising. The meetings were held almost always at secure spots that could not be accessed quickly. Last one had taken _three_ portkeys and a hike. And while he had started with translations, he was now mostly helping in the field, talking to captured trolls and vampires. He had not run into a werewolf yet, but he knew it was coming.

He had had a particularly rough weekend camping in West England and was still feeling it when they met that Tuesday.

Peter tilted his chair and looked at the bar to confirm that, indeed, they would not get their drinks for a while because Sirius had disappeared.

“How does _do it_?” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, Wormy,” James said seriously, “When a man loves a woman very much, he—”

Remus snorted, although it wasn’t audible in the crowded bar. Peter rolled his eyes.

“I know how sex works, git,” he said, and threw a coaster at James who easily caught it, laughing.

After a few anecdotes about the weird and sometimes impressive ways Sirius pulled (“Remember that towel lady at the beach? How did he get into her panties in the minute it takes to rent a towel?”), Peter got tired of waiting for drinks. But just as he got up, Sirius appeared at the bar and was ordering drinks, so Peter sat back down. There was a man sitting on a stool next to him - presumably the person he had disappeared off with - and they were casually chatting. Sirius looked rather bored.

“Maybe he’s a— What do they call it? Hypersexual?” Peter mused. “I don’t even wank as often as he has sex…”

James’ smile disappeared and he looked at Remus meaningfully before commenting. “He’s trying to be happy,” he said.

Remus’ head snapped towards his friend, and he raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Peter asked, “He has been in a good mood ever since you have been promoted to official Trainee Aurors.”

The bespectacled boy shook his head and twisted his mouth for a second. “He’s— He wants…” He took a deep breath. “Are you sure you don’t want to get back together with him, Moony?”

If he’d had a drink, Remus would have immediately started drinking it. As he did not, he just gaped at James. “What are you talking about?” he said lightly in the end.

“He was better, when he was with you,” he explained, and glanced at the bar to make sure Sirius was not on his way back yet. “He is being a bit self-destructive. Drinking constantly, even when we are not with him. And if you think he pulls a lot, you should definitely not live in the same house as him because Merlin’s balls I never get a good night’s sleep. It’s just not like Padfoot to act this way.” James said, and Remus couldn’t help but think _Isn’t it, though?_ silently at him.

“I think he’s lonely,” James continued, seeing Remus’ skeptical look, “He misses you. He won’t say it, but I can tell.”

The truth was, the werewolf suspected that Sirius missed him. Although their post-break-up instinctive touching was gone, Sirius had now moved on to flirting with him, and Remus often responded in kind, teasing Sirius playfully. It was difficult to not get wrapped up in it, sometimes. They had kissed twice in the last month. After one of them, Sirius had asked him, with a slurred-yet-still-smooth voice, if he would get back together with him. It had taken all of Remus’ self-discipline to tell him that no, they couldn’t. He had had two shots that he could not afford right after they’d gone back to their table.

Sirius trying to make his way through all of London’s beds - even on the nights that they had kissed - made it easier to remember that they were never getting back together. Remus had accepted it, and yet it hurt all the same.

Sirius was living, just like he was supposed to. Not tied down by a relationship or the burden of having to take care of him. Even without the werewolf bit, Remus doubted Sirius would have had the patience to still be with him - monogamously - after so long.

“I’m not daft. I’m not… I’m not some bloody delusional bird who thinks _they_ will—.” He took a pause and shrugged and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer, quieter. “I think who he is now is who he really _is_. What he had with me back then was the oddity, not what he is now.” James opened his mouth to argue, but Remus silenced him with a quick wave of his hand. “You know it’s true. Look at how he approaches anything else in life. He convinced Dumbledore to change his NEWT classes four times. He gets a taste of something and moves on to the other. He’s…” He smiled - a real smile, reaching his eyes - and stared off into the distance. “He _lives_ life, Prongs. He’s electric - everything he touches is - and he passes through space and time like a storm, touching everything he can. It’s how he lives life. He’ll shout a song at the top of his lungs when he enjoys it, can’t just hum along. And with people, well… He enjoys them too. I don’t think he’s unhappy.” The last part was a lie, but it _was_ true that the werewolf did not think being in a relationship with Remus would make Sirius any happier.

“You’re a poetic drunk, Moony,” Peter commented kindly, “Who knew?”

“He enjoyed you more than any other,” James insisted. Remus got the impression that James had been meaning to talk to him for a while now.

The dirty-blond shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not,” he said, thoughtful, “Difficult to say. We were - still are, really - so young. Hormones intensify feelings. And I was also the first person he actually _tried_ to have a relationship with. I was a first for him and there’s always something exciting and alluring about a first, especially for Sirius Black. And most of all…” He paused again, and licked his lips. He dropped his gaze, he didn’t want James to see the look in his eyes that he knew he would get. “Most of all, he cares for me and he wanted to make me happy. He wanted to be a boyfriend because _I_ wanted him to be.” He was surprised at his candor. He was drunk indeed. The words came easily. He had repeated them to himself often enough, trying to get over Sirius…

“I don’t see the problem with that,” James said gently, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You wanted him to be your boyfriend and he wanted to be that for you. Isn’t that how people get together?”

Neither Sirius nor Remus had properly explained to James why they had broken up, as far as the werewolf knew. They had simply told him that they wanted time apart. James had not pushed them for an explanation, but Lily had confronted Remus to make sure Sirius had not hurt him in some way that he was hiding because _“Merlin help me, I will hex that boy to next year if he did.”_

Remus bit his lower lip hard for several moments before speaking again. “Not exactly. He just wanted me physically and cares too much for his friends to hurt them openly. It made sense in his head, I am sure, to try a relationship with me. But James,” he said, then looked up at his friend, “Why would I want to be with a person who wants to be with me only to not hurt my feelings? I might— I might not be ‘the Most Eligible Bachelor of Hogwarts’ but I have too much pride to be with somebody who doesn’t want me.”

He couldn’t tell James about the Ministry and how he didn’t want to do that to anybody, let alone somebody he loved as much as Sirius. It was painful to even think about, and he _knew_ what James would say, anyway. That the Ministry should bugger off and Remus should ignore them. Unrealistic war declarations against the R &C from James Potter was not what he needed. Not tonight. There was almost always multiple reasons for people breaking up, what harm was it to focus on this one now?

“He _does_ want you,” James replied, confused. He was too smart to be easily fooled by Remus’ diversion.

“He doesn’t like seeing me unhappy, and he probably misses the sex,” Remus continued, trying to convince him, “Not the ideal foundation for a relationship. Besides, he pulls all the time, so perhaps he doesn’t even miss the sex.” He had tried to sound casual, but the pitying look in James’ eyes proved that the pain in his voice was clear.

“Why would he keep flirting with you if he didn’t want you?”

“Because he’s Sirius Black?” Remus said dryly, raising his eyebrows, “The other week he asked Rosmerta if she had a spare toothbrush since he was planning on sleeping in her room rather than his.”

James shook his head, smiling slightly at the memory. Rosmerta’s face had actually turned magenta. “He jokes around, yes, but he directly asked you if you would get back together with him. He was being—” He looked around, as if to make sure Sirius wouldn’t magically materialize right beside them. “Serious for once. I didn’t hear the conversation but I saw how he looked at you. It didn’t look like a joke. He told me after. That he’d asked.”

“He doesn’t truly want to,” Remus insisted, although he had to admit Sirius had been serious that night. He had barely smiled, and his voice had been thick and calm, despite his inebriated state. Remus believed that Sirius _thought_ he wanted Remus back. He just also believed that he was lying to himself, or not understanding his feelings. Sirius was meant to be free, to sail from shore to shore, and enjoy every flower he saw. He wasn’t meant to have a boring relationship with a rapidly-aging werewolf that no wizarding employer would touch.

“When has Sirius _ever_ done something he hasn’t wanted to?” James asked, sounding partly irritated, but there was kindness in his voice still.

“Not often,” Remus conceded.

“Just… Just think about it, Moony,” James urged him with a small sigh, as he saw Sirius making his way towards their table, “I hate seeing you two miserable, especially when you have no reason to be. This war is taking enough happiness out of our lives.”

Remus looked away. He hadn’t thought that he appeared miserable to James. He glanced at Peter who had been almost suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. The blond was looking at Remus with worry and kindness in his eyes. An unspoken invitation to talk to him whenever he wanted to. The werewolf appreciated how Peter never pushed him, and knew how to show support without prodding.

“There you go, gents,” Sirius barked, dropping glasses onto the table and spilling a bit of beer. Peter started handing him some money. “Oh no, don’t worry,” Sirius said with an impish grin, “I got them for free.”

Remus frowned.

“I don’t know if it counts as free if you prostituted yourself for them, mate,” James laughed. Remus looked at him and was almost confused at how cheerful he looked, all of a sudden. He had thought that he was the only one of his friends who could put on a mask so well and so quick.

“Ta, Padfoot,” he said as he grabbed a bottle and immediately started drinking. He could smell the other man on Sirius from across the table and it made him nauseous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless tumblr plug: https://padfootmoony.tumblr.com/


	15. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say about my sporadic updates anymore... Sorry? :<

**1978 Winter**

“When is your meeting with the Ministry?” Aberforth asked, words curt and without rhythm. One might have called his speech awkward but the man was anything but. It was more an unwillingness that the werewolf sensed from him.

He looked around the cafe’, placing a carefully bored expression on his face to hide his surprise at the question. It wasn’t a secret, what he was - not from Aberforth at any rate - but the appointment was a personal matter. Or so Remus had thought.

“Twenty second,” he said quietly, grateful that the old man preferred meeting in quiet Muggle places instead of crowded streets like some did. He would rather not shout when he spoke about this.

Aberforth nodded. “Of course,” he sighed, “Leaving it until the last working day before Christmas to make sure you are suffering through it.”

Remus had thought about the timing, of course, but not that it had been intentional. He didn’t know whether he was naive or Aberforth was too jaded. He’d had six months after graduation, after all. It was not an odd date to pick time-wise, if it had not fallen upon the holidays. He hummed in agreement nevertheless, not wanting to contradict the man.

“Albus wants you to go up North, before,” Aberforth said, looking down at his tea with distaste at the thought.

“You mean the Order needs me up North,” Remus answered playfully. Aberforth snorted.

“He was pushing for this Full, but I convinced him a Full isn’t a good idea just yet. And now, with the Ministry waiting for you, it will not be a good idea in December either. Hopefully never.”

They both knew it was false hope. There was a reason Remus was in the Order, and it wasn’t to spend all of his missions sans fur.

“You need not get angry with him,” he said gently, trying to placate the man. He knew Albus and Aberforth loved each other despite their disagreements, and that most of those came from the younger brother being too protective of his sources’ (and friends’) lives. Albus was a general whereas Aberforth only a talented soldier who had been drafted. They didn’t see the Order in the same way, even if their end goal was the same.

“He is my brother and I will feel about him the way I see fit,” Aberforth huffed, but a smile was tagging at the corners of his mouth.

“He isn’t wrong,” Remus continued, breaking off a piece of the cookie in front of him. “It will be a different kind of approach I will have to have once I’m tagged. Especially if it’s wolves I am meeting, this time.” A subtle question.

Aberforth nodded. Remus put the piece of cookie in his mouth and started chewing slowly.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Remus looked up at the tired-looking old wizard. “And what approach does he think is best?” he asked, too casually, as if asking what book Aberforth would recommend for light reading. “Do I hate the Ministry? Am I happy to at last meet my furry brothers and sisters? Or am I domestic and grateful for the gentle and generous wizardkind?”

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. He gave a small sigh, but his smile remained on his lips. “As you wish,” he said, “I have no instructions for you for this particular group. They don’t let wizards approach them and survive, so we do not know their dynamics at all.

“What I _can_ say, though, is that that alone tells a lot about them. It doesn’t appear that they hate wizards or humans - they certainly do not hunt in any shape or form that we can determine, other than wildlife - but the fact that they have been this well-hidden means they will not be the most willing conversationalists. You may need time.”

Remus did some quick calculating in his head while nodding. “I could take a week, before the Full. My boss is already expecting me to take time off before Christmas in exchange for covering the holiday shifts.”

Aberforth nodded, and tapped the bill before getting up to leave. He had left a tip of 58 cents with the bulk of the money, and had left another eleven cents divided into two towers of three and eight coins each, right next to the bill. It was a rather frustrating way to communicate, Remus had thought the first few times he had done it, but by now the werewolf was used to the quick calculation.

“Merlin. North indeed,” Remus murmured to himself before getting up to leave.

~

He arrived at the bar ten minutes early but decided to start working anyway. He was getting paid hourly and most people would not start work early for that reason. Their boss had made it clear that he wants people to stick to the hours so nobody works too much or too little. But Remus was closing that night anyway so he saw no harm. Besides, if he was behind the bar he was less likely to get hit on.

It had taken him a while, to get used to that. It wasn’t that nobody had ever liked him before - he had dated. Hell, he had been with Sirius Black, the most handsome boy in school. He didn’t think he was too unattractive to get attention. But the bluntness and forwardness of the clientele of The Purple Eagle had caught him off-guard.

“It’s a mixture of reasons,” Lily, a barmaid who shared Lily Evans’ name had told him, “Some are forward because this is the only place where they _can_ be. Some are forward because they don’t have time to waste, they have a job early in the morning or a wife waiting at home. And some… Some just enjoy making young innocent men blush.” She had giggled after the last comment.

Whatever their reasons were, Remus would have to fend off at least a couple of interested blokes every night. Even a girl, once, who had asked him “any chance you swing both ways?” He had laughed and shaken his head.

Sometimes - close to the full moon, usually - he would take somebody home. Especially if he had met with Sirius recently. Sirius’ mere presence was enough to turn him on, but the dark-haired boy had increased his flirting continuously since the night he had asked Remus to get back together with him. It had gotten to the point where Remus had had to wank off in the bathroom once, when the four Marauders and Lily were having dinner and Sirius kept purring at him and stroking his leg.

Not that he should not have expected it, of course, but to Sirius “no” had apparently meant “seduce me”.

He had tried to date, to make it easier to get over Sirius, or at least be less sexually frustrated around him. But his schedule did not leave room for much, and certainly not with a Muggle. How would he explain to a Muggle that not only did he have to work twenty three nights a month, but he would also be gone for most of the other days of the month either on missions for Dumbledore or tearing himself to shreds? The owner of the pub was a wizard and knew about Remus, and the rest of the staff thought he had a chronic illness, and that the scars had been from a childhood accident. That sort of thin excuse would never work with a long-term partner even if Remus had been able to start a relationship.

It didn’t help that whoever Remus was attracted to was inevitably so like Sirius - but not enough - that he would simply end up frustrated and never contact them again. This suited most of them fine, since he met them at a pub that rather encouraged short meetings of the kind.

“Hello,” came an unmistakably Scottish sound just as the werewolf was done opening the last box of cups. Remus poked his head out of the backroom to see a rather confused looking blond looking around the place as if trying to memorize it. For some reason, it made Remus think of a detective.

He froze. Could it be? Or maybe a Death Eater, who had somehow managed to—

“Hello there!” the Scotsman said with a big grin, noticing Remus. “How ye daein?”

Remus smiled. He hadn’t heard such a strong accent since he’d left Hogwarts. He wiped his hands on his legs and moved towards the man. “How can I help?” he asked carefully, trying to read what the man might want. That’s when he noticed two barrels behind the man. “Brought the ale, have you?” he added before the man could speak.

“Aye,” he said, then coughed, as if remembering something. “Sorry, forget where I am, sometimes. Haven’t lived in London in ages.” His accent was completely changed.

“No bother,” the werewolf chuckled, “I don’t mind.”

The blond shrugged, embarrassed. “Dad says it’s better business to lose the accent,” he explained. “Not that I min’, I los’ most o’ it nat’rally when I studied ’ere.”

“You studied here?” Remus asked as he started picking up the first barrel easily, leaving the other man’s arms hanging as they had flown up to help. The man raised his eyebrows.

“No need for ’elp then…” he chuckled, but took the second barrel himself, following Remus towards the back of the bar. Then he continued. “Aye, I lived here for three years.” His accent was coming and going now, and Remus found he rather enjoyed the sound. He’d heard enough (fake and real) posh English accents lately. Not that Scottish accents were uncommon, but the shyness was quite adorable.

He put the barrel down, swapping it with an empty one while the other man waited.

“What did you study?” he asked lightly, hoping it was a profession he would have heard of. Muggles had so many names for every detail of a subject.

“Er—” the man started, seeming at a loss as to what to say. “It’s— It’s a niche, really, you would not have heard o’ it.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, wondering what could be so embarrassing about school. “Try me,” he said, getting up and leaning against the counter with his best sly Marauder expression. He wanted to keep the man talking.

“Chemistry, I guess,” the man said with a twitchy smile. Remus got the impression that if he had been the type of man to blush, he would have been doing so.

“Chemistry,” he repeated. “How niche,” he added sarcastically.

The taller man was about to answer when Nemausus, Remus’ boss, came through the back door with a chuckle.

“He’s a Potioneer, Remus,” he said, laughing. “Good to see you, Michael.” He gave the bold man - Michael - a hug before turning back to Remus.

“Couldn’t help but hear this one make a fool of himself,” he explained. “Mate, you need to be less obvious if you want to live with Muggles. Just pick one lie and tell them all the same thing,” he told Michael.

The blond shook his head and smiled. “Missed ye too, Nemy,” he said in response.

“You two know each other, I take it?” Remus asked, not wanting to be out of the conversation just yet. Michael had been one of the very few people Remus had been attracted to in months. He might not even be gay, but the werewolf appreciated his presence nevertheless.

“No need to get jealous, Remus,” Nemausus teased, obviously having sensed Remus’ interest. “I am most definitely not dating my best friend’s nephew.”

“Oh!” Remus said as realization dawned on him. “Oliver’s nephew.”

“Aye,” Michael confirmed. “Good to know you’re a wizard— Err, you are, right?”

“Aye,” Remus answered, teasing Michael’s accent. They both chuckled.

Nemausus coughed. “If you two are quite done making eyes at each other for the day, I believe I am paying you to be here, Remus..?”

Remus made a peace sign at Nemausus but turned around to go back to unloading glasses. “Nice meeting you, Michael,” he called out as he walked off, thanking his past self for choosing to put on a particularly tight pair of jeans that day.

As he felt a pair of eyes practically burning holes in the aforementioned jeans, he grinned as he thought to himself: _Not straight._

~

“When were you going to tell us, you knobhead?” James snapped after he smacked Remus in the back of the head.

“Oooh are we hitting Moony? Why?” Peter asked excitedly. “Can I go next?”

James smirked. “Moony-boy has been in the Order longer than us, apparently,” he explained. At the mention of the Order, Peter looked around the pub nervously, then relaxed when he saw that nobody was listening to them.

Sirius was looking at Remus from the corner of his eye with a raised eyebrow, but did not join the conversation.

The werewolf shrugged. “You know how it is,” he said, “I could not talk about it until you were all in. Dumbledore assured me that you would be.” He tried not to show just how relieved he was that he did not have to keep the secret anymore.

“Bloody right, we would,” James agreed proudly.

“Now I can finally tell you,” Remus sighed, “That I’m going away next week. On a mission. I was wondering how to avoid the Tuesday meet-up without suspicion or an out-right lie.” He paused, and hoped he was not being too sentimental. “I don’t like lying to you.”

James smiled fondly, as did Peter. Sirius rolled his eyes and put his feet onto a stool, pointedly not looking at the werewolf.

“A full week?” he asked, “And there’s the full, after. Can The Purple Eagle spare you for that long?”

Remus froze, as did Peter. James looked at Sirius with raised eyebrows and a carefully curious expression.

“Been following me, have you, Black?” Remus said lightly.

Sirius shrugged. “I’m allowed to go out.” He took out a cigarette. Remus wasn’t sure if he was trying to look more punk or if he really needed a fag. Could be either, knowing the boy.

“I didn’t see you,” he said slowly.

“I use glamor when I go out with Muggles, usually. I’m not an idiot,” Sirius snapped.

Remus wondered why Sirius seemed so angry about this. He frowned.

“Oi, you git, Remus is not an idiot,” James said, coming to Remus’ defense.

“I don’t know about that,” Peter said seriously, “Look at the company he keeps…”

Even Sirius had to chuckle at that one.

Within an hour, Sirius was on his second cigarette and they were all drinking their third round of drinks. Conversation was flowing freely and Peter had a particularly funny story about a skinny woman in his department that had James snorting beer out of his nose in laughter.

“Stop! Stop!” he was gasping between laughs and coughs.

After a few more drinks, it didn’t take funny stories to make them laugh, any more.

“Hey have you— Have you— Have you noticed,” Peter slurred, “That _potion_ rhymes with _lotion_?”

James giggled. “IT DOES!” he said. He took out a parchment from his pocket. “Imma write that down so I can tell my dad. I don’t want to forget it.” He looked around the table as if he would find a quill on it.

“You want another drink, Moony?” Sirius asked, placing his hand gently but firmly on Remus’ arm as he did so. The werewolf tried not to focus on the feeling.

“Er—” He looked at James who was now looking _under_ the table to a quill. “Maybe we have had enough?”

Sirius snorted. “Jamie, yeah. Not us two. You could always hold your liquor better than these berks.” He laughed as James hit his head on the table when trying to get up. “Come on, Remus, it’s on me. Got a word of my Christmas bonus and it’s not bad at all.”

“Alright,” Remus gave in, smiling. “A pint of whatever they have,” he said, going for the cheapest option.

“I’ll get you some of that disgusting local brew that you like,” Sirius said and was surprisingly gentle. Teasing, not mocking. Of course he would notice and remember a detail like that.

Remus’ smile grew as he shook his head and looked down at the table, hoping he wasn’t blushing. It was easy to be charmed by Sirius, even by a simple friendly gesture.

“Ta.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

~

“Have fun carrying Wormy home!” Sirius said cheerfully as he put an arm under James’ shoulder to help him walk.

Remus frowned at Peter who was sitting on the ground with his back against a dumpster.

“That’s how it is?” he huffed at Sirius.

The Animagus shrugged. “I live with James, it makes sense,” he said. “You knew the deal when you signed the custody agreement.”

“Custody?” Remus asked, confused.

“You said - and I quote - that our divorce will not leave our children parentless. That we should have split-custody.”

“Did I, now?” Remus laughed. “And when is it my turn to have Prongs live with me?”

“I won’t live with Wormy.”

“Don’t play favorites with our children,” Remus mock-scolded him. “This is exactly why we got divorced.” He started picking Peter up from the ground.

“I thought it was because I couldn’t feed your sexual appetite,” Sirius said solemnly.

“That too,” Remus agreed, sighing. “You know me, four times a day is barely enough.”

Sirius snickered. He looked at Remus who was bent over, pulling Peter up. “I could do four times.”

“Yeah right,” Remus teased, straightening his back and picking Peter up on his back. “Maybe with a potion.”

It felt good, Remus had to admit. Flirting, without consequence. Somehow, knowing that he had a boyfriend made it easier to talk to Sirius, instead of harder. He knew that it was harmless, now. He knew that he could go meet up with Michael and not have to twist and turn in bed, sexually frustrated and lusting after a boy he could not have. Finally, even on the nights that he saw Sirius, he didn’t _have_ to wank thinking about him, nor wake up in an empty bed.

~

Michael was waiting for him when he got off the train. He held out a warm sandwich and took Remus’ small bag out of his hands. “Walcome back,” he said, and kissed Remus gently on the lips.

“Good to be back,” the werewolf sighed, too tired and worn-out to try and fight off Michael’s kindness. He was in too much pain to be polite. “Let’s go. I need a kip, then floo my ma.”

Michael chuckled good-naturedly and they started walking out of the train station.

They had been dating long enough that Remus felt no guilt flopping onto his boyfriend’s couch as soon as they entered the small apartment. He would have fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow if Michael had not stopped him.

“None o’ that now,” he said, pulling Remus back up, despite the groans of protest. “To bed with you.”

When Remus woke up, a charmed-warm cup of tea was waiting for him on the bedside table. He took it and walked into the living room. Merlin, it was dark already. How long had he slept?

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” Michael asked, beaming as he smiled up at the weak werewolf. It was as if, even in this state, Remus’ presence made him truly happy.

The dirty-blond shrugged uncomfortably, then sat down next to Michael. He gave him a quick peck on the lips. “It went well, actually,” he said, throat still sore. He rubbed at it.

“That is how it is when it goes well?” Michael asked, clearly worried but trying not to sound overbearing.

Remus nodded. “The people I meet… They don’t send me to friendly places,” Remus explained. He could not tell Michael what he was really doing, but he had to explain it somehow and Dumbledore had agreed that he could be told that he was doing freelance work for Gringott’s to retrieve stolen goods from particularly aggressive creatures.

“You could take more shifts at the Eagle,” Michael sighed, brows furrowing. “I wish you didn’t have to be in so much pain.”

“I like putting my Defense knowledge to use,” Remus insisted. That part he could be honest about, at least. “Besides, this way I help people.”

“You help people at the bar,” Michael said, grinning.

“Yes, help them get drunk,” Remus laughed.

His boyfriend got up and started giving him a gentle shoulder massage. “Mmmm now _this_ is pleasant,” he hummed and made a show of stretching his arms in pleasure.

“Anything for my favorite werewolf,” the blond said, planting a soft kiss on Remus’ light-brown locks.

“Have other werewolf lovers, do you?” Remus joked, closing his eyes.

“A’m a one-wolf kind of bloke,” Michael chuckled back.

“Lucky me,” Remus said as he rubbed his stubbled cheek against Michael’s left hand. He _did_ feel very lucky. For a second, he thought of how if it had been Sirius, he would have picked Remus up and spun him around, probably taken him to bed. He shook the thought away and melted under the blond man’s gentle caress.

~

“If you insist on _working_ on Christmas, you selfish toerag, then _we_ insist on bringing Christmas to _you_!” Lily scolded Remus. They were having tea at the Lupins’ and she had just heard that he would not be joining their Christmas dinner.

“The thing is,” Remus said, grinning, “I can just imagine it, too. Prongs wearing an apron and you orchestrating as Wormtail and Padfoot bring in a feast of Christmas food into the middle of a bar. You know it turns into a club after hours. Nobody is going to be eating turkey there.”

“Incorrect. _We_ will,” she scoffed. “I refuse to even consider another option, unless you can have the time off.”

“I can’t,” he said gently. “How about you drop by for drinks, after? A bit less embarrassing for this poor ol’ werewolf?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t play that card with me. James and Sirius have worn out any bit of pity I might have had for the Marauders.”

“I told them not to over use their ‘innocent’ faces. Now they have ruined it for all of us.”

“We will stop by for drinks, then,” she said, “But I insist on at least packing you some dinner to eat in the back.”

“Thank you, Lily.”

~

Remus tried to calm his heartbeat as he walked through the corridors that, to his nervous brain, might as well have been mazes. Finally he found the counter he was looking for.

“Application number?” a wizard sighed, looking as if he could not be more bored if he’d had a two-hour lecture with Binns.

“Er— I— I’m Remus Lupin,” he stuttered, looking for his papers in his faded leather bag as he spoke.

“Application. Number,” the wizard repeated impatiently.

“Zero eight eight - U? - five - W - eight seven,” Remus read off of the paper, nose scrunched up in concentration and confusion.

“Mmm,” the wizard hummed, writing it down. After a few seconds, his parchment glowed with magic momentarily. “Wait over there,” he said, not looking at Remus but gesturing towards some stools across the room. “Should be less than ten minutes.” He paused, and turned his head towards the werewolf as if it was taking him great effort to do so. “Any preference for side?”

“S-side?” he said, internally swearing at himself for stuttering. What was he, ten?

“Left or right? Most choose left, I don’t know why.”

He frowned. The wizard gestured at his own neck pointedly.

“Oh. I.” The papers had not talked about placement. It was on the neck, then. “Middle?”

The wizard laughed darkly. “Yeah mate, no. Cannot do center. Too easy to hide with hair. Right or left.” He paused. “If you have no preference, just go sit and wait.”

He wasn’t sure why, but he thought of how, due to the placement of their beds in the dormitory, Sirius had usually come onto Remus’ bed from the left side and nibbled on the right side of his neck often.

“Left,” he said quietly, then sat down on a stool.

~

His breath was labored and he knew he needed more oxygen in his lungs but his jaw was clenched shut. He wondered if he was breaking any teeth. He breathed fast, shallow breaths through his nose, nostrils flaring as he fought off the tears.

He had had the misfortunate of tasting pure silver not once but twice. He had also touched silver dust a few times. The pain it caused was different than the transformation, but oddly familiar. Both had the wolf screaming inside. During transformations, to get out of Remus’ skin. When silver touched their body, the wolf screamed to run away. And Remus could not.

He held the edge of the stool so hard he could feel himself getting splinters. _How much longer_ he wanted to ask. He couldn’t. He would not give them the satisfaction.

Finally - _finally_ \- the pressure on his neck subsided and he sighed a tiny puff of air in relief. The pain, however, did not lessen. Surprised, he turned to the witch who had been tattooing him. She looked confused for a moment by his questioning look, then she understood his silent question.

“Oh. Yeah,” she said absentmindedly, already looking over the registration of the next werewolf. “It will hurt for a while. The silver and ink slowly work their way through the layers of skin until they reach a few layers above the last.” She paused and looked up. “A similar thing will happen about every few months, when the tattoo gets too close to surface it will embed itself deeper.”

He looked down and pursed his lips. That all the emotion he would let them see. He nodded.

“It’s…” She sighed. “It is less painful this way. It is hard to believe, I know, but if I had tried to put the silver down immediately that deep it…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t even know if you would survive.”

“Does ink not work?” he found himself asking. He was already getting up and wiping dust off of his old robes. The question of a scholar. Not desperate, not angry. Simply curious.

It was her turn to look down. She pretended to be reading the parchment in her hand and moved towards the next werewolf.

“Thank you,” he told her and walked out, using all of his willpower to keep his body from shaking like a leaf. After he Apparated into the cottage, he fainted.

~

“How are James and Lily doing?” Hope asked as she pressed a cold towel against his neck. He hissed but thanked her.

“Good,” he said. “He is planning on proposing, actually. Was asking Peter for advice, of all people.”

“He’s a kind boy, he could have good ideas.”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, nodding, “But James is… He’s big and loud and _not_ subtle. He will want to do something like hire reindeers and take her through fireworks, or something. Pete’s more of a roses-and-chocolate kind of bloke.”

Hope laughed. “He is a bundle of energy, yes.”

She wiped his neck for a few more moments before switching to a new towel.

“And how is Peter? Enjoying his job? He said last time he was about to get a promotion. Did that happen?”

Although they often talked about Remus’ friends, Hope didn’t usually go over them like a list in this manner. Remus suspected she was trying to distract him from the pain.

“Not yet,” he said, “But they had a big set-back when his boss— Er— She quit,” he lied, not wanting to tell his mother that the Muggle-born witch was missing.

“Oh,” she responded, not having much to say on the subject. Then, she drew a breath, as if bracing herself. “And Sirius?”

“Auror training, still. With James.”

“And?”

“And what?” Remus asked, blinking at his mother in confusion.

“He hasn’t come around,” she said softly, and looked away to wash one of the used towels.

“What, here?” Remus said. “I s’pose not.” He shrugged. “So?” He closed his eyes again in pain, and pressed the towel down.

“The others have,” she said.

“Lily needs to escape her sister sometimes,” Remus chuckled, trying to steer the conversation away from Sirius. He glanced at her to gauge her reaction.

“Remus—” she started, looking at him determinedly, then stopped. She licked her lips quickly and Remus wondered if he had gotten that nervous tick from his mother. “Remus, what happened with you two?”

“What?” he asked, eyes wide open now.

“You… You and Sirius were together, yes?”

Remus froze. His heart was making an attempt at beating out of his chest while his lungs were colder than the towel on his neck. “How— I— I mean I—”

She didn’t comment, only kept looking at him.

“You knew?” he whispered in the end, eyebrows almost blending into his hair.

“Of course I knew,” she said gently, “I’m your mother.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even…” He shook his head. “I gave it away, then? Does tad know?”

“I’m sure he does,” she mused, but was looking at the ceiling in thought. “Don’t know how he could have missed it.”

“I didn’t think I went on about him that much. Mrs. Potter knew about Lily immediately but Prongs won’t stop talking about her.” He blushed and shook his head. He _had_ been a lovesick puppy for a while. Probably, in his excited young state he had given away more than he had realized.

“It wasn’t what you said, really,” she said thoughtfully, and put a hand on the towel on his neck, freeing his hand. “It was…” She made a waving gesture with her free hand. “It was the _way_ you said his name. It didn’t click for me until he came to visit.”

Remus tilted his head towards her. “We were fifteen!” he laughed. “I didn’t even— I don’t even think we were together yet.”

“You were in love already,” she said with a distant smile, and Remus knew that he was seeing the two of them, younger, in her mind’s eye. Had she caught them kissing, maybe?

He felt his cheeks burn. “I don’t know about _love_.”

“You were,” she insisted. “Gods, the way he looked at you…” She smiled. “I knew he was a troublemaker. I would most definitely not have picked him for a son-in-law if I’d had the choice. But… Everybody deserves somebody who loves them that deeply.”

This time when Remus looked at her mother, his look was puzzled. “We were fifteen,” he said incredulously, silently asking how two dumb fifteen year olds could be in love the way she was romanticizing.

“I know love when I see it,” she said, and put the towel away, not replacing it. “Your neck needs a break. We will let it warm up for a bit.” She wiped her hands on a dry flannel on her lap. “When he looked at you, cariad, it looked like you were his world. Your look back at him was not much different.” She grinned. “Shyer, perhaps.”

“Are you done?” came Lyall’s voice from downstairs. “Tea is about ready!”

“Almost!” she shouted back. Then she turned back to Remus. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, Remus. But if you ever want to talk, please let me know. Young people think they know everything, but I promise, you do not. For all I know, you broke up with him because he ate your bacon in the mornings.”

“You sound like you think I’ve made a mistake,” he said, amused.

“I’m not saying that,” she said, chuckling and packing away the water and towels meanwhile. “But I do know that the Black boy wasn’t the one to put an end to things. That was your choice. I can tell it was you who left the poor thing.”

“I never knew you liked Sirius,” he said, getting up and stretching his neck.

She huffed. “Not my first choice for a son-in-law, as I said,” she said, “But as frustrating and naughty as he was, I could tell how attached he was to you. Not to mention the thousands of owls every time you dared come home from Hogwarts. And how can I not love a boy who loves _my_ boy that much?”

“I’m serving!” Lyall shouted.

“Coming now in a minute!” Remus responded, thankful for the interruption.

First James, now his _mother_. Why did people keep telling him to get back together with Sirius? Especially now that he—

_That’s right, I have a perfect reason not to. I should tell her._

“I have another boyfriend now, ma,” he said with a smile, and started walking towards the door, taking some of the load off of his mother’s arms.

She shook her head, unsurprised. “Not like Sirius,” she said.

 _No, not like Sirius_ , he thought, and found that the thought didn’t hurt as it had a few weeks ago.

“I like him,” he said, instead.

“You should bring him here. Introduce us,” she responded, and they went downstairs to eat.

~

Christmas was the perfect time to hide one’s neck. The cold weather, coupled with the tradition of ugly sweaters, made it easy for Remus to put on a red turtle-neck with a reindeer on it and pretend to be in a festive mood.

The only problem was, of course, that Sirius Black was not distracted easily. He knew Remus too well.

“You hate turtlenecks,” he said as he sat down by the bar, and Lily started unloading food in front of Remus without a word of greeting.

“MERRY CHRIIIIIIIIIISTMAS!” James shouted, jumping onto the bar table, then, after a few particularly embarrassing dance moves (that got him catcalls and laughs), jumped to the side of the bar that Remus was on. He hugged him and kissed his cheek. “HI MOONY!” he shouted into his ear.

“Ow,” Remus said, rubbing his ear. “Merry Christmas Prongs.”

“YOU’RE WEARING MEEEEEEEE,” James shouted, grabbing onto Remus’ sweater. The werewolf rolled his eyes.

“You’re a stag, not a reindeer.”

“MEEEEEEE!” James insisted, then jumped back to the other side to grab Lily. Just as he was pulling her to dance on the floor with him, she looked back at Remus and yelled a quick “HAPPY CHRISTMAS! EAT NOW WHILE ITS FRESH!”

The two went off to dance while Remus put the completely unreasonable amount of food away from the bar table. He would nibble on the food throughout the night.

“What’s with the sweater, git?” Sirius asked, undeterred.

“It’s Christmas,” Remus said with a shrug.

“You hate turtlenecks,” Sirius repeated. He looked at a half-empty beer bottle that was next to him as Remus took it to throw it out. Whoever had been drinking it was gone. “Are you hiding hickeys? Thought that would get your more tips.”

Eventually he would have to tell his friends. He couldn’t wear turtlenecks and scarves year-round. He sighed. “The Ministry,” he said, “They… They put a number on me. Because.”

Sirius eyes grew wide, but he didn’t say anything. He leaned over the counter, staring at his neck. “Can I see?”

“Later?” Remus said, trying not to look scared.

Sirius straightened his back, moving away from Remus, but didn’t look away. Instead, he looked at the werewolf with sadness and determination.

Biting his lip, Remus quickly lowered the turtleneck for a split second to flash the silver-and-black numbers buried beneath the enflamed flesh and scab.

“Fuck,” Sirius breathed out, and with all the music playing, Remus was sure nobody but the werewolf heard him.

“Can I— Should you be working? That looks bad.”

“I need the shift. You know I took time off,” Remus explained.

“Do you need— I mean can I—” Sirius seemed at a loss for words. He didn’t sound angry at the Ministry, which surprised Remus. He merely seemed to want to help Remus when they both knew there was nothing to do. It was done, already. “Do you want to stay at ours, tonight? We can at least make you breakfast. Or something.” He sounded lost. Unsure. It sounded alien and _wrong_ coming from Sirius Black, the insecurity.

“Thank you, Sirius, I’m alright,” he said, forcing a smile.

The dark-haired boy nodded his head absent-mindedly, and did not speak much for the rest of the night. He stayed close to Remus like a guard dog. Not to fend off potential flirts - although Remus was grateful for that side-effect, he had no time to deal with drunks hitting on him tonight - but to be there in case the werewolf needed something. He poured him water, a few times. It was almost as if he was expecting Remus to pass out from pain at a random moment, every time the werewolf so much as stumbled. To be fair, he _had_ lost consciousness, when he had first gotten the tag.

He wondered how Sirius would have handled it if he had known, then. Michael had not insisted about coming along, giving Remus space. Would Sirius have? Would he have known to be calm and press a cold towel to his neck like his mother had?

Despite having stayed by Remus’ side all night, as the night drew to a close and Lily was helping Remus pack away the remaining bit of the food into a smaller bag, Sirius disappeared to chat with one of the last few remaining customers by the coat hangers. It surprised absolutely no one of them when, in the minute it took for him to grab his leather jacket, he had already convinced the bloke to take him home.

“See you later, all! And merry Christmas, once again!” he said to his friends quickly before rushing off.

“Be a good boy, Padfoot!” James laughed.

“Never!” he responded, walking backwards towards the man waiting for him by the door.

“HAPPY CHRISTMAS!” James shouted again as he picked Lily up and threw her over his shoulder, walking out of the bar.

“Potter put me down _immediately!_ ” she yelled, but her laughter meant that James would do no such thing.

And it _was_ a happy Christmas.

The mission had been a relative success, the ache in Remus’ neck was dulled, he had gotten through the shift without much trouble, he had a steady job, he had a boyfriend who, although he was with his family tonight, cared for him. And best of all, he had gotten to spend time with almost all of his friends. He could not imagine a much better scenario. His life, despite the disparity of the different sides of it, was going better than he had been afraid of when graduating from Hogwarts.

As he locked the doors with Lily - the barmaid, not the future Potter - and thought happily about his life, it started snowing. He laughed, as did Lily.

“Perfect Christmas, eh?” she giggled.

He stood up and looked at the deserted street that was quickly getting painted white with snow. “Yes,” he sighed, “Quite close.” It was better than he had dared hope for.

Remus went home to find his mother and father asleep on the couch, holding each other, and smiled. He woke them up gently and they stumbled to their bedroom after greeting him with hugs.

The dirty-blond went into his bedroom and sighed as he threw himself on to the bed, clothes and all. He groaned as he made himself take his clothes off. He did _not_ want to wake up to the smell of smoke and alcohol.

Once he was naked, he turned to his side and tried to get comfortable. He found himself, shamefully, thinking about Sirius. Was he at that bloke’s place? Maybe he had left already. Maybe he had decided otherwise, had a quickie in the alley, and went back home.

He shuffled over and tossed and turned for a few minutes before ending up on his back, facing the ceiling.


	16. Smile Even Though You're Sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll give a spoiler at the very beginning because I feel I've been torturing y'all enough: This is the last chapter with the puppies apart.

**1979, Spring**

 

**_And when you think of me_ **

**_Am I the best you’ve ever had?_ **

**_Share one more drink with me,_ **

**_Smile even though you're sad_ **

_Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At The Disco_

 

Remus finished his second meeting with werewolves - a pack in Northern Ireland, this time - with such damage that he had to swallow his pride and seek Madam Pomfrey’s help to get healed. He didn’t even remember flooing to Hogwarts, but he recalled trying to make a plan to do so. He must have managed, because he woke up in the hospital wing with familiar smells and voices surrounding him.

“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Pomfrey was sighing at who was surely a student injured due to a magical mishap or prank. “When will you learn to leave potions well enough alone? Altering the formulas is very dangerous!”

“I’m sorry,” squeaked a young voice, and sounded it.

He waited patiently behind the curtains while Madam Pomfrey helped several students - presumably affected by the same potion. As he had expected, as soon as she had the chance, the matron made her way to Remus’ side. The werewolf knew better than to try to use his vocal chords just yet, so simply smiled in greeting.

“You’re awake,” she said matter-of-factly. She had always had a soft spot for Remus, but this did not stop her scrutinizing the situation, nor her bluntness. “You are showing signs of malnutrition again. I know you were on a mission for two weeks but the signs go longer than that.” She touched his wrist gently and tutted. “You have to eat more. Preferably fatty foods. Fish would be good.”

The werewolf nodded, resisting the urge to raise his eyebrow. _Fish._ Yes, he would make sure to tell his mother to buy some top-notch Nordic salmon instead of paying for heating this month. His excuses of eating at work helped keep a roof over their heads, and he knew it. He wasn’t about to start eating three meals a day at the expense of his family’s comfort.

“I also am confused about… Were you tortured, Remus?” Her tone suggested this was a possibility that did not surprise, nor scare her. For a moment, Remus wondered what Madam Pomfrey had to deal with for the Order that torture seemed almost banal.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head.

She frowned. “Why have your wounds not healed, then? They look… They don’t even look Muggle-styled bandaged, let alone healed with magic.”

He sighed. “I couldn’t use magic, not where I was. And I did not have bandages available.”

Pomfrey pursed her lips. “Fine if you were wandless but really Remus, just rip off part of your robe and at least stop the bigger bleeds, next time.”

“That would have worked,” he said slowly, trying not to cough because his throat hurt enough already. “Except they— Err— Wands and magic are not the only things they dislike. They are not fond of clothes, either.” He felt his cheeks burn and wondered if he had enough blood in his body to visibly blush.

“Yes. Well.” The matron wasn’t blushing, but looked uncomfortable. “Just be careful, Remus. I didn’t heal you for seven years to have you go and get yourself killed due to treatable cuts and bruises.”

He chuckled and nodded. ‘Cuts and bruises’ indeed. The pain on his side confirmed at least three cracked ribs and he knew his leg had broken because he had woken up with his foot facing the wrong way. Merlin knew what other injuries he had had. In the days after the full moon he had been in too much pain to be conscious long enough to determine the damage.

It felt good, being back at Hogwarts. He was in pain, yes, but he was warm and safe and _home_. Even living with his parents didn’t feel as much of a home as Hogwarts did. Hogwarts was magic and love and where he had grown up to be the man that he was. And, perhaps most important of all, it was the only truly safe place to be. He didn’t have to watch his back. He didn’t have to be careful about anything at all. Not how much he ate lest he cost his family too much, not whether his wand was by his hand in case he got attacked in the night, not laundry,… Nothing.

He smiled as he drifted off back to sleep, not even worried about being rude to Madam Pomfrey. She had seen him injured and fatigued more times than almost anybody else. She would understand.

~

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to spend this Full on a mission again,” Remus said carefully, “My friends are already asking about the timing, and one more this soon will leave no doubt to what I am doing.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you would rather I tell them.” _Please,_ he added silently and wondered if Aberforth was a Legilimens like his brother and if, like the headmaster, he used it frequently.

“Actually,” Aberforth responded, “You are not planned to. Albus wants to let things stir on their own, for a while. See what the talk does within the communities.”

Remus nodded, trying not to show his relief. There was nothing about these missions that was pleasant. He had to lie to his friends, spend the full moon without them, wake up in agony, unable to heal himself, and worst of all, not know what had happened the night before. He had thankfully never woken up smelling human blood, but the thought of the wolf being free to roam and do as he pleased was terrifying.

“Will I wait, then, or..?” He started playing with the quill in his hand, needing something to do. He didn’t enjoy the idea of sitting around that much more than another mission with the wolves.

“No,” the old wizard replied, amused, “Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “Gryffindors…”

The werewolf nodded again, smiling this time. It was a compliment whether Aberforth had meant it as such or not.

“Giants, again? I didn’t have much success last time…”

“You will meet with a Death Eater,” Aberforth said softly.

Remus was momentarily shocked before calming down, understanding now why they had to meet at Hogwarts. Spying was not something they could afford to have overheard. “Who?” he said, trying to sound casual.

Aberforth hesitated for a moment. “Regulus Black,” he said, looking at Remus curiously, watching his face closely for his reaction. “He has taken the mark.”

Remus hoped his eyes were not betraying his emotions. He knew how to control his facial features but the eyes were always tricky, especially when he was caught off-guard like this.

“I see.”

“Did you know?” the old wizard asked, sensing Remus’ lack of surprise at the revelation that Regulus was a Death Eater.

The werewolf nodded. “I knew that he was… On the path, at least, since he was in school. I suspect he took the mark long ago.”

“No,” Aberforth said, shaking his head and scratching his beard. “It was quite recently, actually.”

Remus let his eyebrows furrow to show his confusion. “He seemed quite keen to work for Voldemort, before.”

“Oh he has been working for Voldemort for a long time,” Aberforth said, waving his hand in the air dismissively as if this was obvious information. When Remus still looked confused, he raised an eyebrow. “You _do_ know that not all Death Eaters have the mark?”

“I did not,” Remus said carefully, and held back from mentioning to Aberforth that nobody in the bloody Order knew one unnecessary piece of information when it came to what they did. How in Merlin’s name would Remus have known? Who would have told him?

Aberforth shrugged. “In any case,” he continued, “You will meet with Regulus.”

“To what end?” Remus asked, shaking off his confusion and focusing on the task at hand.

“He has information.”

“He’s defecting?” His heart beat faster. If Sirius knew…

“Not exactly…”

“Am I expected to Imperio him? Or use Veritaserum, or—” Remus started listing ways he could get information out of an unwilling Regulus with a frown.

“No, no,” the old wizard cut him off. “He is willing to give information. Some. But it is a long way from a few pieces of information to defecting fully.”

“Why would he share anything useful if he is loyal to Voldemort? He will either get himself killed or, more likely, Voldemort is using this as a ploy to feed us false intelligence.”

“You are a smart one, Remus, but rash and rather simple in your way of thinking. Very Gryffindor. Do not jump to conclusions so quickly. Stop and think about it. People do not wake up one day and decide to push away everything they believe in. It happens slowly.”

Understanding dawned, finally. “He disagrees with Voldemort on something in particular.”

“He does.”

“And you’re hoping that he will keep disagreeing.”

“I am.”

“Why me?” Remus asked bluntly. “Wouldn’t his brother be a much better option? I am a half-blood, why would he even talk to me?”

“You were amicable in school, from what Albus tells me.”

“For a while,” Remus admitted. “But certainly not in a long time.”

“Better than what Black would offer,” Aberforth scoffed, “That boy would have Regulus running back to Voldemort within a minute of being in the same room with him.”

“Mmm,” Remus hummed noncommittally. He was not sure about that. The Black brothers had fought a lot, that was true, but you could only fight that fiercely with somebody you loved just as fiercely. Regulus might listen to Sirius…

“And you know we do not use Black that way,” Aberforth added casually.

“Front-line, I know,” the werewolf said, trying not to sound too bitter.

“They are not doing anything more important than you and I are,” the old wizard said, sounding surprised at Remus’ offended tone.

The dirty-blond shrugged. How could Aberforth say that, when James and Sirius were out fighting criminals during the day and Death Eaters in the night? All Remus did was talk to beasts and claw himself new scars when he had to spend a full moon with the wolves.

“Our line of work is more dangerous than theirs will ever be,” Aberforth said darkly. “Do not think otherwise. Yes, they get to wave their wands around and run after Death Eaters but we, Remus, we take the _real_ risk of walking into a situation with our wands put away, knowing that we are more likely to be attacked than welcomed.

“Every time we enter a pub or a forest or what-have-you in the hopes of getting a tiny bit of information to help the Order, we are risking our lives in a much more real way than they are.” He looked Remus over quickly. “And don’t think I don’t notice you limping after almost every mission, even ones that are not on the Full. We are hurting for them, Remus. So they can have the location of a potential attack and go there, wands raised, ready for a fight.

“This meeting with Regulus… It will be more dangerous than any other mission you have been on. But it is necessary and of all the people in the Order that I work with, you are one of the most suited for handling sources, beast or not.”

There was a comfortable silence for a minute as both men drank their tea and were lost in their own thoughts. Regulus would be Remus’ first wizard source that was not a half-breed like himself. Most of his ‘sources’ were people he talked to only a few times and never saw again. He rarely met with them more than five times. This mission… It sounded much more like a long term working arrangement, the way he and Aberforth had been meeting. He was going to be on the opposite side of the table, now.

“Regulus,” Remus said, in the end. “When is he expecting to meet? Does he know that it is me?”

“I suspect he is smart enough to not expect Albus himself, but he was not given a name. In four days. Remember, don’t prod. Let him talk to you. Don’t think that just because you know him, you can act any differently with him than your other sources. He needs to do the talking.”

“Alright.”

When Regulus saw Remus at the pub, he actually laughed. “Of course they send the werewolf,” he said, rolling his eyes. His sad smile reminded Remus so much of his brother that he found himself, once again, wishing that it were Sirius doing this and not him. They were brothers.

On the other hand, Remus knew how to push a Black’s buttons and he thought that that may be useful.

“And of course Regulus Black picks a place with five quid pints even when meeting in secret,” he replied sarcastically, enjoying the slight surprise in the young Black’s face.

Regulus huffed. Actually huffed, the way Sirius used to when they were younger. Remus tried not to smile as he sat down next to Regulus. “Don’t see why things have to happen in seedy bars or dark alleys. Might get more people on your side if they weren’t afraid of catching flees.” Regulus paused, putting on a smirk much like his brother’s. “Or poverty.” He searched Remus’ face for a reaction excitedly, but found none.

The werewolf tried not to enjoy this as much as he was. Truly, this was a solemn moment and the young boy next to him was in deeper trouble than anybody could get him out of, even Dumbledore. And yet the banter was already making him fight off a big grin.

~

When Nemausus owled Remus to talk to him outside of the pub on one of his days off, the werewolf didn’t need to even read the letter to know that it bore bad news. He sighed as his eyes scanned the brief message.

He put on a polite smile when Nemausus, apologetically, told him that he had to let Remus go. The Ministry had sent him clear instructions that unless he put up a sign on the wall as well as his menu that he employed werewolves, his floo access would be blocked. He had ignored the first letter from them a month ago, but he had gotten two warnings since, and had no choice. Without the connection to the network, he would lose most of his wizarding customers.

“I don’t understand what good they think it will do,” Nemausus sighed. “If you’re employed, you’re employed, what do they care if I don’t?”

“They are concerned for your clients,” Remus said softly, then took a sip of his tea calmly, quietly calculating how many months of taxes he could afford with his savings.

“What, in case you spontaneously decide to be able to turn into a wolf without a full moon?” came the sarcastic question.

Remus chuckled, then shrugged. “You know how they are.”

Nemausus sighed, and told Remus that if he needed anything at all, he could contact him without worry. The werewolf thanked him and after a few minutes of idle chatter, went back home to make a plan. Whatever he did, he could not be more of a burden on his family and he certainly could not stop his work for the order. He had two wizard sources and three beast informants now. His work felt too important - much bigger than his trivial life - to give up on.

~

Remus’ plan involved Peter. Luckily, they had already planned to meet just the two of them on a Tuesday when James and Sirius could not make it.

“I don’t even need them to finish the sentence anymore,” Peter said, after recounting another one of his hilarious tales from work. “They give me that look and I know they will ask to speak to ‘whoever is in charge’.” He shook his head. “Why don’t they understand that I really _am_ doing everything possible?”

“People are idiots,” Remus offered as an explanation.

“My my, Moony is swearing before he has finished his first beer. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Oh shut up, ‘idiot’ doesn’t count as a swearword,” he said good-naturedly. He glanced down at his bottle. “Besides, this bottle’s all but empty. Maybe a few drops left.”

“Want another?” Peter said, already getting up to get another round.

“Aye,” Remus replied, without thinking. He didn’t even realize what he had said until Peter, halfway between sitting and getting up, sat back down and started laughing. “‘AYE’?” he repeated between giggles. “‘Aye’?”

The werewolf rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh. “Oh for the love of…”

“Scottish now, are we?”

“You try dating a Scotsman and not picking up _any_ of his slang.”

“I’m around a Welshman quite often and I haven’t picked up any of your ridiculous jargon.”

“Just go get us a beer, Wormtail, before the big bad welsh wolf bites you,” Remus said with a grin, and Peter complied, still giggling as he walked away.

When Peter got back, Remus decided it was time to bring up the favor he needed to ask. He hated burdening his friends in any way, but this was the best way he could think of to get out of the hole that the Ministry insisted on digging for him.

“So, Peter,” he started, then paused.

“Uh-oh,” Peter said immediately.

“What?” the werewolf asked, eyebrow raised but expression carefully blank otherwise.

“You usually call me by my name when something’s wrong,” Peter explained.

Remus shrugged with one shoulder. “No, no… Just…” He took a deep breath. “You meet quite a few people at the Ministry, don’t you?”

Peter tensed, unsure where this line of conversation would take them.“Yes,” he said as slowly as one could utter out such a short word.

Remus nodded to himself a few times. “I was just thinking…” He bit his lip for a second before realizing what he was doing and stopping it. “Have you— I mean— Does the subject of the war ever come up?”

Peter looked at Remus, and the emotion in his eyes was difficult to read. Mostly he looked confused, or perhaps scared. He always hated talking about the war - even more so these days when almost any time they talked about it, they were talking about dead people. “Not really,” he squeaked, his voice high-pitched.

“Hmm,” Remus hummed, disappointed. He didn’t let it stop him. “Well, if the subject ever does come up… Could you do me a favor?”

“A favor?” Peter asked, his features tightening at the word, probably because Remus Lupin never, ever asked for favors if he could help it.

“Could you mention that you have a friend who puts up wards against attacks?” the werewolf asked, looking down at the table in embarrassment. He tried not to hold on to the sides too tightly. “I have several unique wards I can put up, as well as different tracking spells for families or, well, anyone, really.”

Peter let out a huge sigh, and Remus looked up to see his friend more relieved than he had looked when he finally was allowed to pee, the day they had dared him to not pee for ten hours straight. “You want me to advertise for you?” he asked with a grin.

“I suppose so,” he mumbled.

“Of course, Moony,” Peter chuckled, “Why wouldn’t I? I’d barely call that a favor!”

“Thank you, Peter,” Remus replied, standing up straighter and smiling at his friend.

“Stop that,” Peter fake-scolded Remus, “You make me feel like I’m going to be taken into Minnie’s office any second. Call me Wormtail.”

~

Unfortunately, Peter was only able to get him one job in three weeks and it had been for a rather poor family, and the few galleons he had earned had quickly disappeared. He was looking for another Muggle job, but hadn’t had much luck so far. Most cafes wanted to hire younger people half-time to save money, and he looked too swotty to work at clubs, or so he had been told. “Just not good for business.”

Begrudgingly, he went to James. He didn’t even have to bring the subject up. Within five minutes of him being in the flat, James was onto him.

“So whaddya need, Moon-boy?” he asked with a face-splitting grin, waving his wand to mix some sort of food - it looked like pudding, but Remus could not be sure.

“I— I didn’t say—” he spluttered.

“Oh out with it, Moony,” James chuckled, glancing between the pot and Remus as he stirred. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

Remus gulped. Maybe it was true. He honestly could not think what he had done to suggest he needed something. “I could— I—” He _knew_ he was blushing, and hated his body for it. James stopped waving his wand and sat across from him, looking at him with a gentle smile. “Could you loan me some money?” he asked, words coming out painfully, one by one.

James frowned. “That’s it?” he asked, sounding unimpressed.

Remus’ eyes grew as he looked at James. “I— That’s— Yes, that’s it! What more did you think I would ask for? Bloody bad enough I have to go begging for—” he started ranting, unable to stop himself.

“Hey, hey,” James cut him off, then shifted closer to Remus to put an arm around him. “Tell me how much, I’ll have it sent to you at once. All I meant was that you looked very worried, and I’m glad it’s something as easy for me to fix as money trouble.” He looked around the room quickly before looking at the flustered werewolf again. “What is it for, though, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Remus thought about lying. He thought about just saying his family needed it - James would believe it, they were poor enough. Instead, he looked into James’ curious brown eyes and told him everything.

“And you’ve been— What, living with this without even _mentioning_ it to us?” James snapped, clearly feeling betrayed.

The werewolf shifted uncomfortably, and tried to move away from James’ embrace but the messy-haired boy didn’t let him, only held on tighter. “You could not have done anything,” he tried to reason.

“Like bloody hell I could not have! I don’t want you paying those taxes anymore. We will arrange it and they can take it directly from the Potter vault.” Remus, of course, opened his mouth to protest. “You work for the Order, don’t you?”

The unexpected question shut Remus up momentarily. “What? Yes. So?”

“Do you know how many hundreds of galleons the Potter vault spends on the Order every month? I assure you your taxes will not even be noticed _and_ it is something we do for all Order members. You would not be getting special treatment.”

“But James—”

James hit him with a wandless, nonverbal spell and part of his hair caught on fire. “Aah! PRONGS!”

The fire went out quickly, before Remus had even managed to untangle himself properly from James’ hug. “Merlin’s saggy balls… What was that for?”

“Being a wanker,” James said casually. “Now get up, we need to check on the chocolate cake.”

“You were making cake?” the werewolf asked, confused. Nothing he had seen on the counter had looked like cake ingredients.

“You’ll love it,” his friend reassured him.

They spent the rest of the day eating, drinking and sharing stories from work or, as much as they could, the Order. They could not talk about the missions, but sometimes they would talk about the Order meetings. After all, those were not confidential in the same way.

There was a noise and Remus stood up straight so quickly he heard a snap from a bone - he wasn’t sure which. James looked at him curiously for a few moments.

“It’s not Padfoot, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, amused. “He won’t be back until tomorrow. It was just July, mother’s owl. I’m keeping her for a few days.”

Embarrassed, the werewolf settled back into the couch cushions.

“How is that going, anyway?” James asked, too casually.

“How is what going?”  
“Sirius.”

“You’re the one who’s living with him.”

James took a long, exasperated sigh. “Don’t I know it,” he moaned.

“What? Is James Potter complaining about living with Sirius Black? Impossible! You must be an impostor! A spy!” Remus cried out humorously.

James sent a tiny half-corporeal stag his way that started poking Remus’ shoulder. Amused, the werewolf chuckled. “Arse,” James mumbled. There was an awkward silence as James looked around the room, obviously searching for words to use for whatever he was going to say or ask. “It’s just, you know, I’m tired of all his _complaining_. I can’t say anything because Merlin knows he put up with _my_ whining with Lily.”

“Ranting about work?” Remus asked hopefully.

“You, of course,” James sighed. “Always you. ‘When will he take me back, James?’ ‘Would Moony like this book, Prongs?’ ‘Do you think he would take me back if I write him a poem?’” he said, quoting Sirius with an exaggerated accent and pitch. He then threw his head back with a sigh. “It’s driving me ’round the bend.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered, not knowing what to say. Was Sirius really that hung up on him?

“You really don’t want to get back together with him?” James asked. His tone wasn’t demanding, but the carefulness showed he was hoping that the two could get back together.

Remus shook his head. “We won’t get back together,” he said firmly.

“Then, well…” James started looking around nervously again. “Then you need to— Err— Don’t shag, Moony.”

“What?”

“He has this idea that— He thinks if you shag you’ll get back together with him. It’s why insists on flirting with you and wearing those ridiculous jeans in the hopes that one of the nights we meet you’ll be drunk and randy enough to let him take you home.”

Remus’ eyes grew slightly, and he made a choking sound. “I… I won’t sleep with him,” he promised.

James sighed. “Good,” he said simply.

~

Sirius' appetite and crudeness didn't show any signs of lessening as time went on. His bedroom was a carousel of witches, wizards and muggles. He didn't appear to sleep with any of them more than once, and was known to not even spend the whole night when he had sex with them.

His latest fling had been with one of Peter's girlfriend's friends and apparently she had been chewing the poor blond's ear off about it ever since.

"All I'm saying," Peter insisted, "Is that you didn't need to get rid of her the moment you took the condom off."

"You're just pissed off because Jenny is pissed off," the Animagus replied, chuckling with the self-satisfied air that only he or James could carry at a time like this.

"Janet," Peter corrected. "And the fact that my knob has been dry as the Sahara since then may have something to do with my frustration, yes," he admitted. "But I mean it, Padfoot. One of these days you should spend a second night with someone. Date, like us regular folk."

"Ah but I AM no 'regular folk', Wormy," Sirius replied easily, and James rolled his eyes. "I'm a true Marauder," he added with pride.

"You saying I'm not?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow, but sounded more amused than offended. "You saying _James_ is not? Because he's shacking up with Lily?"

Sirius opened his mouth but before he could say whatever venomous words he had prepared, James cut him off. "Don't you dare say something bad about my future wife, Padfoot," he said, warning his friend gently but surely. "And for what it's worth, I agree with Wormtail. You could use a little love in your life."

"You don't love me?" Sirius gasped in mock horror and despair. He pouted exaggeratedly and made his lips quiver. "This is how I find out?" he added with a fake sob. "I knew you were quite fond of that redhead but I didn't know you would stop loving _me_..."

"Oh Merlin..." Remus groaned, and looked up to the ceiling, trying not to smile at his friends being idiots. He missed this, their casual banter that used to be a constant part of his life at Hogwarts.

James snorted, and put an arm around Sirius. "You're my one and only. And I do love you. You know that. But I’m _marrying_ that redhead. She owns me now." He was trying to be playful but his blissful expression was too much of a giveaway.

"Doesn't the man own the woman, Prongsie?" the raven-haired boy shot back.

"No," was the quick and firm reply. "That woman most definitely owns my sorry arse," he added happily, and downed the rest of his Butterbeer in one big gulp. "Another?" he asked the group.

Peter looked at his half-empty glass and shrugged. "Maybe Firewhiskey?" James nodded, then looked at Remus.

"I'm good, thanks," he said with a smile, pointing at his beer bottle. He had been making it last so long it was warm and tasted like piss at this point and James knew it, but he let it slide with another nod.

"Padfoot?"

"Wine?"

James rolled his eyes again. "So you can get drunk and brood? No thanks. I'll get you some Firewhiskey too, you're a happy drunk when you drink that stuff."

"But I look so handsome when I'm brooding," Sirius said with a laugh, but James just scoffed in reply. It was true, he knew it as well as Remus and Sirius and really anybody with eyes did. He left to buy the drinks.

As he waved his wand to float down the Firewhiskey glasses in front of each Marauder, James looked at Sirius with a look that Remus couldn't quite decipher. "Really though, Padfoot, why don't you ever date? Obviously not Polly, she's a right simpleton--"

"Oi," Peter cut him off, but James waved off his protest.

"She _is_ , Wormtail, I don't care that she's Janet's childhood friend." Sirius smirked at Peter. "In any case, Padfoot," James continued, turning to Sirius, "There _have_ been a few people that I'm surprised you didn't bother with at all. That Prewett girl seemed just as fun as her brothers. Great body, too."

"You are obsessed with redheads, Potter. Most of us don't share your odd taste."

"Still. What about that bloke from the muggle band-- David? Daniel?"

"David," Sirius confirmed, and looked around the pub as if the conversation was boring him.

"Right. Why didn't you try with him? You seemed interested, you kept shagging him for weeks. You could have gone to rock concerts around the kingdom and lived rebelliously ever after."

"I don't do long term, you know that," Sirius sighed, reaching for another cigarette and lighting it wandlessly. Remus noticed that Peter was watching his hand, impressed even after all these years.

"What, too punk rock for love?" Peter joked, trying to join the conversation again.

"What's the point of dating when all you do is compare them to somebody else?" Sirius said with unexpected solemnity. He looking directly at Peter but the whole table could feel the tension directed at Remus. He had been doing a fine job staying out of this, he had thought, but of course Sirius had to drag him into the drama. "No point getting anybody's hopes up when you know you won't love them." By the end of his sentence he was staring at Peter in such a way that the poor boy was squirming on his chair.

"Oh don't put it on Moony now," James huffed.

"Me?" Remus asked, pretending not to have understood who Sirius had been referring to.

James gave him a look that Remus did recognize, this time. It was the almost-scared 'I forgot I wasn't alone with Sirius' look.

"You're the one that got away, Remus. You always will be, so you better get used to it," Sirius said softly, then took a long drag. When he was done, he held the cigarette in his hand and stared at the red ash as it burned away.

They were all quiet for too long for it to be comfortable by just a few seconds. Then, Sirius broke the silence. He glanced at Remus quickly before looking back down, and was grinning at his cigarette when he spoke. "Unless, of course, you take me back. Then I suppose you wouldn't have 'gotten away'." His voice was raspy and flirty, the same tone and demeanor he used when picking up people from the bar with a cheesy line. They had all been within earshot of his flirting too many times not to recognize it now. He was also now rubbing his shoe subtly along Remus' right boot from across the table.

There was a beat where Remus almost responded but his breath was hitched; stuck in his throat, unwilling to come up to his mouth and exit in words. Words of joking laughter or grim, angsty declaration of love. Remus wouldn't know, because his brain seemed to be frozen too.

"Leave him be, you dog," James said happily and slapped Sirius on the back of his head, eliciting a displeased grunt from the boy. "Go use your puppy dog eyes and sad stories to get laid _elsewhere_." He was only half-joking, and they all knew it.

James had told Remus before that as much as he loved Sirius, Remus shouldn't go to bed with him just because he was, well, Sirius. He seemed concerned that Remus wouldn't be able to help but make decisions with his cock when it came to the raven-haired boy. To be fair, Remus _had_ almost given in more than once. Sirius was unfairly good at seducing people, even those not in love with him. It had gotten easier with time, saying 'no', but the immediate physical reaction of desiring Sirius had never ebbed.

"And you," James added, waving a finger at Remus, "You don't let him get to you."

Sirius finally turned to the werewolf. With his barely-parted eyelids and signature half-smile, he was obviously flirting now. "Don't listen to him, Remus," he stage-whispered with sparkling eyes, "Come home with me." He managed to sound seductive and playful all at once.

"Unavailable, I'm afraid," Remus responded with an airy tone and felt proud of himself for managing to keep his composure.

"What?" Peter and James asked at the same time. Sirius simply stared at him in confusion.

The werewolf shrugged. "I'm seeing someone. Will meet him after this, actually."

"After this?" Peter asked, eyebrows furrowed, "But we often drink until past two. What kind of a date starts at two in the morning?"

"A date that only includes a bedroom," James replied with a laugh. He raised his glass at Remus and took a big sip of his drink. "Good for you, Moony."

He tried not to blush as he smiled and drank some Firewhiskey himself. He hadn't asked for it but they were too close friends for the gesture to have offended him.

"How long has this been going on?" Peter frowned. "I've been talking to Janet about setting you up with a friend of hers..."

"What is it with couples insisting that all their friends have to be in couples, too?" Remus sighed. "And obviously I can handle my own love life. And... About a month, if you must know."

"Obviously," Sirius said darkly but was ignored.

"But you never said!" Peter exclaimed.

"Because I have no interest in sitting around discussing _dating_ like a group of schoolgirls..." Remus responded condescendingly. He didn't mean to offend but really, why were they talking about this at all? It would be awkward enough talking about his love life with his friends and he most certainly did not want to do it with Sirius around.

"You should have told us that you were seeing someone, at least," James said, and Peter looked infinitely pleased that he was taking his side. "If nothing else, it would have stopped Pads’ inappropriate flirting. Maybe he'll stop putting his arm around your chair now,"

"It's fine," the werewolf said with a shrug. "Michael wouldn't care."

"Not the jealous type, then?" Sirius said with such smugness that Remus wanted to punch his grinning mouth.

"No," he replied calmly instead, "So far no tables have been set on fire." He laughed internally when Sirius made a growling noise and drank more of his whiskey, looking away from Remus.

"On to a less awkward subject," James cut in, "You all still coming next Saturday to ours? Lily's been cooking up a storm, practicing."

"She HAS seen Sirius eat before, she definitely has to start cooking today to make enough food," Peter laughed. He wasn't wrong, Sirius definitely ate enough for all of them put together and yet somehow Peter was the pudgy one. Purebred Black genetics playing another cruel joke on the world.

"Right," James agreed, but before he could speak more, Sirius did.

"Does he know?" he asked Remus, voice rough as if he were scolding his friend.

"Know what?" he replied sarcastically, "About my furry little problem?"

"Yeah."

"Sirius," James warned, but the other boy simply kept staring at Remus expectantly.

When the werewolf didn't respond for almost a minute, Sirius grinned almost demonically. He seemed very pleased at what he assumed was confirmation of Michael's ignorance. "Oh he doesn't, then?" He licked his lips the way a dog might when excited or nervous. "Won't that be a fun day in paradise? About a month, you said? So he may not figure it out for a while yet."

"I think I should leave," Remus said and got up. Sirius looked at him triumphantly.

"Moony..." James started, but didn't finish.

"Still coming next week," he confirmed. He paused. "Should I bring Michael?"

James' eyes darted back and forth between Remus and Sirius. “Er— Next time?"

Remus nodded, then left the pub quickly.

~

When he Apparated into Michael's hallway, his boyfriend was arranging his shoes. Both boys were startled momentarily, then Michael's face broke into a grin. "Hello, gorgeous," he said, pocketing his wand and moving over to kiss Remus lightly on the lips. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Hope I wasn't intruding," Remus said sheepishly, just now realizing that, indeed, he was more than two hours early for their rendezvous.

"Don't be silly," Michael chuckled, "Just means I get more time with you, which I am always in favor of."

"And more sleep," Remus said as he took his worn jacket off.

"You know me so well," his boyfriend responded, then sighed happily. "If we skip the wine, I can be asleep before midnight."

"One month, and the romance is already gone," the werewolf said gravely, but he was smiling still.

"Seven weeks," Michael corrected him, his face mirroring Remus' gentle smile. "Come on," he said afterwards, and pulled Remus by his waist, "Let me show you just how I can romance you."

The werewolf chuckled at the cheesiness but followed him willingly into the bedroom.

Making love with Michael had taken getting used to. Because that's what Michael did. He didn't fuck, he made love. Remus' admittedly small pool of lovers hadn't included such a tender one, before him. When he was in school it had been rushed, hormonal grunting and rubbing mostly. And after, most people seemed to be interested in rough sex. Getting bent over a table (the irony did not escape him), going at it fast and hard on all fours on the bed, things like that. Some had dared get kinky and wands and ropes had come out to play. None of them had _made love_. Not that he had minded. In fact, Michael's gentle ways had disappointed Remus, at first. 

When he'd told him, before they slept together for the first time, that he wanted to massage Remus - and then proceeded to do so for _twenty bloody minutes_ \- the werewolf had had to physically stop himself from frowning. He hadn't thought that he could enjoy sex that didn't include hungry kissing, bruises and love bites forming over his pasty skin. Although the massage and extensive preparation had felt quite nice, Remus still had had to bite his lip to not ask Michael to just get on with it, push him down and fuck him into the mattress.

In the end, though, he had been grateful for having kept his mouth shut because his new lover had given him three orgasms within as many hours. A feat he had not thought possible for a man.

Now, after what had apparently been seven weeks, he was well accustomed to Michael's way of sex. Sweet, tender kisses and touches that made even the most naughty activities seem a way of showing affection. Remus didn't know how it could be romantic to stick a tongue up a person's arse but somehow, someway, Michael made it so.

~

Sirius kept trying to push Remus’ buttons, to get him to lash out, but the werewolf did not give him the satisfaction. Every time Sirius would make a smug or inappropriate comment about Michael (whose name he said with the same tenderness he used for Snape’s name), Remus merely smiled and refused to so much as reply with a sarcastic comment.

Remus’ lack of apparent frustration worked to keep things relatively calm and normal between the Marauders until the engagement party.

James and Lily’s engagement party had been an all-day affair at the insistence of the Potters. James had a full day planned with friends - including activities such as Quidditch (because _of course_ ), hiking (“Bloody Prongs!”), and barbecue by the Potter manor (“Unless you let me bring an ungodly amount of alcohol, Potter, I refuse to participate in this nonsense of a day you call end of your bachelorhood.”).

Lily had a similar plan, except hers included more pampering and a few activities that the girls refused to tell them, but the mention of the day made them fall into a fit of giggles. Remus suspected scantly-clad men might be involved by the way Marlene in particular was blushing.

The issue - well, one of the issues, first of which was that now James’ left ear was big and pink with no apparent way to reverse it - was that Michael had come. There was simply no way to avoid it. After having been together for so long and the party being clearly not exclusive, Remus had not had a reason to not bring him. Michael had only met Peter before, and although Remus had expected animosity from Sirius, as always, Sirius Black exceeded his expectations of human reaction.

“Hey Prongs, Padfoot,” Remus greeted his two friends who were packing bottles of water for the hike. “This is Michael,” he introduced the Scotsman next to him with a quick wave in his direction.

“Hullo,” James said with a polite smile, getting up and offering Michael a hand.

Sirius glared at Michael. Didn’t even speak, simply glared. Remus felt like he was back in grade school. Or Hogwarts, he supposed, because Sirius had often acted like a toddler even as a teenager.

“Sirius,” he hissed when Michael started shifting uncomfortably under Sirius’ glare, not knowing what to do.

Sirius looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow, and smirked. He turned back to Michael with an ice-cold look, smirk still intact. “Hey chemistry-boy,” he said lightly.

Remus closed his eyes for a few moments, taking a deep breath and making a mental note that he should never tell anything to Lily that he did not want Sirius to hear. Of _course_ Lily would have related the story of how they met to James and of _course_ that meant that Sirius knew.

To his credit, Michael grinned in response. “Suppose Remy told you how we met?” he said, in an English accent that Remus was temporarily taken aback by. Michael very rarely put that accent on around Remus anymore, and the werewolf suspected that the reason for it now was that James and Sirius both had incredibly posh English accents and Michael wanted to fit in.

Sirius rolled his eyes pointedly, then turned around to go back to packing water bottles, putting cooling charms on them without a wand or incantation. “Stop with the fake accent,” he said condescendingly.

Michael’s grin dropped.

James tried to save the situation. “Come, Michael, we have a few other guests who have arrived already. They are in the kitchen, mother’s feeding them some pastries that you have _got_ to try.” He lead them away, and Remus tried to mentally prepare himself to deal with a hostile Sirius for the next twenty hours. He succeeded in keeping himself collected until Sirius, for the fifth time that day, insulted the polite, agreeable Michael for no reason whatsoever.

“You can skip the Quidditch, you are obviously not built for it,” Sirius was telling Michael as he took his own shirt off, making every effort to show off his body.

“Shut up, Sirius!” Remus said curtly.

“What, you want me to pretend the beer-belly - barrel, really, more than a belly - that this bloke’s supporting doesn’t exist?” His tone was as icy with Remus as it had been with Michael.

“Sirius, stop this childish nonsense.”

Sirius’ nostrils flared and he took a deep, angry breath before talking again. “Fine,” he barked, then hopped on his broom and flew up to meet James who was already hovering above the pitch with Frank, waiting for the rest to join them.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Remus apologized. His boyfriend looked more confused than offended. “He’s…” He sighed. “He’s Sirius.”

“The one you mentioned you had dated,” Michael said unnecessarily.

Remus nodded. What else was there to say?

Sirius stayed away from Michael and Remus for the rest of the day. He didn’t even look their way - at least the werewolf never caught him doing so. It appeared that he had decided to be as much of a reasonable person as Sirius Black could be and remove himself from the situation since he couldn’t control himself.

Or so Remus thought, until they were taking pictures at the engagement party. They took several with random groups of people, _many_ of just James and Lily and a few of the Marauders. When they were taking the last one, Sirius stroked the small of Remus’ back gently. The werewolf wished he hadn’t enjoyed that, especially after what a pain the black-haired boy had been all day. That alone would have been alright, except right after the photographer said they were done, Sirius turned to Remus and, not letting him go, asked him if he wanted a drink.

“Er— I— No, thank you, Sirius,” he said, trying to move away from Sirius’ hold inconspicuously.

Sirius responded by putting a second hand on Remus, this time on his waist. “You look like you could use a drink,” he almost-purred and Remus wanted to make a joke about a dog purring but he didn’t dare.

“We’ll get one,” he said, gesturing towards Michael with his head.

Sirius followed Remus’ gesture to see Michael chatting with Lily, a few feet away from them. The werewolf couldn’t quite make out his expression but it was something between bored and condescending. He let Remus go, but did not take a step back. Remus slid away, flustered. He tried to think of disgusting, unsexy things to get his mind off of how good it had felt to have Sirius’ hands on him.

_Dumbledore’s socks. Filch’s mole. House-elves._

He went to stand by Michael and Lily and they nodded at him in greeting. He responded in kind but could not hear a word they were saying. His mind was on overdrive, thinking about Sirius. How he had been possessive all day, how he had had his hands on him just now… It was horrible, he knew, to be turned on by it. When sweet Michael had taken every insult with good grace, had held Remus’ hand and refreshed his drink and had done _everything_ a good partner would do. None of that had made the werewolf’s cock perk up in interest the way a momentary touch from Sirius had.

He sighed, and excused himself to the bathroom. Maybe a quick wank or washing his face would help.

Sirius must have seen him go because a few seconds after he closed the door, he was being pushed against it. Sirius had smartly gone for his neck, not mouth, and was groping the side of his body. Remus gasped and stayed still with shock and arousal for a few seconds before pushing the Animagus away.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” Sirius asked sarcastically. He started to move back to do more of it, but Remus stopped him with a held-out hand. “You don’t want to?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“Of course I don’t!” Remus responded, hating how his voice was high-pitched. “I’m with Michael!”

“But Remus,” Sirius said seductively, eyes dark and half-lidded with lust. He took half a step towards Remus, pushing against his hand. “I know he can’t possibly fuck you the way I do.”

The werewolf gulped. It was almost as if Sirius had read his mind. He _did_ want a quick and dirty fuck, rough like they used to. Not love-making like he knew he would get tonight from Michael. He shook his head. “I don’t want to,” he said, as firmly as he could.

“Suit yourself,” Sirius said, voice light for a moment before it returned to its seductive baritone for his last sentence: “But remember, when you get tired of playing with goody-two-shoes over there, I’ll be here to make you come your brains out.”

Sirius stepped back, and smirked as he gently pushed Remus out of the way to leave the bathroom.

When the door closed again, Remus realized that he was shaking. He hoped he hadn’t been, when Sirius was in the room.

~

The next time Sirius saw Michael, it went much the same. They were at Three Broomsticks and Sirius kept glaring at Michael, and taking jabs at him for most random things. He had even insulted him being a potioneer, asking if he sucked at _real_ magic, but James had hit him on the neck, reminding him that his _father_ was a potioneer and a brilliant wizard, thank you very much.

After that, Sirius went out to smoke. He was gone for almost ten minutes when Remus finally decided to cave in and go out to look for him.

He found him quickly. Sirius was right next to the door, almost, staring into the night blankly. He looked every bit the angsty rebel he fancied himself. His leather jacket was open, showing his dark red t-shirt beneath, and his boots were purposefully made to look older than they were. He looked ruggedly handsome with his high cheekbones and face that looked chiseled out of a stone. Remus took a shaky breath and tried to shake thoughts of it away. He knew Sirius Black was attractive. This wasn’t news.

He stood next to him wordlessly. Sirius hadn’t looked at him yet, but the werewolf was close enough that he knew the Animagus had noticed his presence.

“We were good, Moony,” he said, suddenly turning towards Remus.

Remus didn’t know what memory Sirius’ glassy eyes were seeing, but the werewolf was thinking of their second kiss. No matter how badly they messed up, they had _always_ been good at _that_ , at least. He tried not to stare at Sirius’ lips too obviously.

“We were,” he agreed quietly.

“Why can’t we be good again?”

Remus shrugged. He could have blamed it on Sirius and their trust issues but the truth was that something inside him had faded in a more quiet, subtle way, when they had broken up. He still wanted Sirius as much as he ever had, but that rosy-eyed, desperate need to be by his side every second of the day was gone. He felt no anger or bitterness. He simply felt okay with not waking up next to Sirius anymore when once he would lose his breath even _considering_ the possibility.

Maybe he was growing up. Maybe they had been infatuated teenagers and now it was time to have an adult relationship with an adult that didn’t make you feel like you were fifteen when they held your hand.

“I’m with Michael.”

“So you are,” Sirius agreed, “Don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Finally, Remus felt annoyed. He was glad for the emotion, it made the guilt and longing go down a notch. “Sirius!”

He expected Sirius to raise his hands in defeat and grin like he usually did when Remus scolded him for a joke in poor taste in front of company. Instead, Sirius smiled bitterly, only one side of his lips curling up. He looked at his feet as he spoke. “Remember Kelsey?”

“Kelsey?” Remus repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Then, suddenly, he remembered. “Oh! You mean Kessey, the sixth-year?”

Sirius shook his head ‘no’. “It was ‘Kelsey’, not Kessey. He was a sixth-year but only because he’d had to take time off to travel with his family, studying dragons. He had a part of his left eyebrow missing.” His finger moved over his own eyebrow to indicate where it had been.

Remus let out a soft breath between his teeth. “You remember him better than I do,” he said, but didn’t sound too surprised. Sirius had a way of remembering inane information.

Sirius turned to him then, but didn’t look at his eyes. “Of course I do, Moony,” he said softly, “Because you were looking at him like you looked at me.” He didn’t sound embarrassed but Remus knew him too well not to know that he was.

“I’m quite sure I didn’t,” he argued. He was being honest: Nobody was like Sirius.

“You did,” the raven-haired boy said and put his back onto the wall. He stared at the night sky which was not clear enough to see the stars. “You were so enthralled by his stories and knowledge of beasts. Your eyes shone when you talked with him.”

For a moment, Remus didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even noticed that Sirius had been jealous. Sirius, by nature, wasn’t subtle. The last guy Remus remembered Sirius being jealous of had lost all of his hair (even eyelashes) shortly after coming up to Remus in the hallway to ask if they could meet again that night.

But with Kessey - _Kelsey_ , Remus corrected himself - Sirius had not reacted in any visible way.

“I didn’t know you knew what ‘enthralled’ meant,” he tried to joke.

“Piss off,” Sirius whispered, but he was smiling.

Suddenly, it dawned on Remus. Sirius _had_ reacted. He did a quick mental calculation and found that yes, he vaguely remembered that the timing would make sense. He turned to Sirius, mouth gaping in surprise. “Is that why we— We never had before and I—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Moony. You’re not making any sense,” Sirius murmured but his body tensed.

“The first time we— You know—”

Sirius looked at him sideways and although Remus could only see half of his face, he imagined Sirius’ left eyebrow was raised.

Oh Merlin, he was going to make him say it, wasn’t he.

“Whnyourodme,” he said, all in one breath and missing a few vowels. He cursed his body for blushing.

At least it made Sirius grin, which, according to the fluttering in Remus’ chest, was worth the embarrassment.

“You know, I don’t recall you having trouble speaking dirty at all, is this a new thing?” he asked innocently.

“I am not ‘ _speaking dirty_ ’,” Remus mumbled.

“Clearly. You’ve lost your touch. You out of practice? Michael doesn’t like it?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Yes.”

“Yes you’re changing the subject, or yes that’s why you did it?”

Sirius shrugged. So it was true, then.

When they were still not exclusive, Remus would occasionally flirt with others. It almost never went anywhere, but with Kelsey it had actually been quite fun. Remus had been too in love with Sirius to _actually_ fall for Kelsey but it had felt like a good second-best option.

After weeks of flirting and a few dates, Remus and Kelsey had made plans to go to Hogsmeade. Kelsey had gotten special permission to stay an extra two hours to visit a place that could only be seen after dusk (Remus had never gotten to find out where that was).

The day before, he had mentioned it to the Marauders to explain why he could not be with them that Saturday. In the morning, his alarm had not gone off and instead he had been woken up by Sirius in the best of ways, and they had - for the first time - had sex with Remus on top (or rather bottom, for a large chunk of the time while Sirius rode him, but he had been in Sirius and it had felt amazing).

By the time they were done he had been an hour late to meet up with Kelsey but in too much of a post-orgasm bliss to care. Kelsey hadn’t been happy when he had found the two shower-wet fifth-years as they left the common room with an inarguably unconcerned-looking Remus.

“Couldn’t stop snogging for a bloody day so you could go on a date with me?” he’d asked angrily.

“Snogging,” Sirius had snorted, but he had not continued as Remus was glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” Remus had told Kelsey, sobering up from his blissful state, “I—We’re not—” he had said, pointing between himself and Sirius, “It’s casual. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Kelsey, to his credit, had tried to be casual for a while but in less than a week they had stopped talking completely, even as friends.

Looking back, now Remus could see how Sirius could have planned that. How he _had_ planned that.

So he laughed. He laughed for so long that Sirius let out a few confused chuckles himself.

“I probably can’t do that now,” Sirius said seriously, “But I _can_ ask you out right to leave him and come back to me.” Just like that, the atmosphere - which had been slightly lighter as they talked about Kelsey - got grave again.

They looked at each other. Sirius’ eyes were cautious, he looked like he was approaching a Hippogriff. Remus tried to school his own face and calm down his breathing.

“I’m happy, Sirius,” Remus said with such a lack of emotion that it felt like a slap in the face. There had been a time when Remus wouldn’t conceal himself from Sirius.

Sirius looked at him sadly and took a few shaky breaths before speaking again. His voice was too small for a boy who could fill the room with his presence with a mere chuckle.

“I know.”

Remus didn’t know who he was angrier at. He was furious that Sirius would dare do this to him now, now when he finally was able to not think about him when he lay in bed at night. When he could have sex with somebody and not have to bite back Sirius’ name from bursting out of his mouth. On the other hand, his own body was frustrating him greatly by making his heart skip a beat still when he so much as heard Sirius’ name.

Uncomfortable in the awkward silence, the raven-haired boy spoke again. “I wouldn’t ruin your happiness, Moony.”

The werewolf gave him a look and chuckled darkly before turning his gaze back to the street. “Yes, well,” he murmured. He wished he enjoyed smoking. It seemed like the kind of moment that would be made better with the presence of a fag between his lips and smoke burning his lungs. He could almost see himself with that sated expression that smokers got when they took their first drag after a long day of school or work. Too bad he hated it.

“Not on purpose,” Sirius said and there was a hint of irritation in his voice. Remus smiled.

 _Only Sirius Black can have that deep voice, look like a picture from a Rebel: How To magazine and manage to sound childish in the most attractive way,_ he thought after he stole a glance at the taller boy.

With a small sigh, Remus pushed himself away from the wall and looked towards the door. “We better get back,” he said.

Sirius nodded and took a few steps so he was next to Remus, just barely ahead so that his face was hidden from his friend. “Don’t want to keep Michael waiting,” he said bitterly.

“Sirius—” Remus started with an edge in his tone but before he could finish whatever warning he was about to give, Sirius cut him off.

“I know, I know,” he said and turned back to him with a fake grin. It dropped shortly after it formed. His expression looked bothered as if he were about to enter an exam at school - if he had ever been a normal person scared of exams, that is. “I just— I can’t just _like_ him, Moony. It’s still hard.”

Remus thought about all the options he had. He could get angry, shout at Sirius that he had to accept Michael. He could be comforting and tell him that it’s alright, Michael won’t come out every time they hang out. He could tell him to bugger Michael, catch his hand, and Apparate back to Sirius' flat. _Decisions, decisions…_

As if he had ever had any choice.

“I would appreciate you trying to be civil, Padfoot,” he said in the end, hoping to make a bit of a joke of it. He hoped Sirius would pick up on it.

Sirius’ snort confirmed that he had. “Moony,” he whined, putting his hands in his pockets, “Don’t ask for impossible things. When have I ever been civil with _anyone_?”

Remus pretended to think as they walked to the door. “Let me see — James?”

“I cannot even remember how many times I have woken him up with a slap in the face.”

“The muggle touch to your actions is always intriguing,” Remus said, “Remember when you bought itching powder - the Muggle kind - from Hestia to prank the Head Boy?”

They kept talking until they were back at the table. Michael raised an eyebrow but did not ask anything when Remus calmly sat back down in his chair and Sirius nodded at Michael wordlessly.

~

Remus groaned into Michael’s mouth, pulling him closer. He had made sure Michael had had too many drinks that night but unfortunately his boyfriend had decided to go along with the stereotype and held alcohol much better than one should.

The werewolf kept clawing at Michael, unzipping his trousers in the hallway, trying to get him to fuck him against the wall. After a few minutes of fumbling, finally Michael took a step back. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Merlin, I want you so bad,” he said with a husky voice.

“Have me here,” Remus whispered back, and turned around to put his hands on the wall to make it obvious what he wanted.

“No, come here, love,” Michael whispered gently and held Remus’ wrists, taking them down. He held Remus’ hand and lead him to the bedroom. Once they were on the bed and naked, Remus tried to get rough again, twisting and moving his body constantly, not letting Michael have a moment of peaceful kissing. When Michael finally, _finally_ began to prepare him, he stopped him after one finger.

“I’m ready,” he said.

“What? No, Remus, I barely even—”

“Fuck me,” Remus begged. He wanted this. He needed this. “Fuck me hard and rough and— Fuck me until I forget everything, even my own name. I don’t want to be able to walk after this.”

Instead of an aroused growl or any show of agreement, what Remus got back in response was an annoyed Michael getting off of him and sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him somewhere between sadness and anger.  
“What is it?” the werewolf asked, confused, and hoping it was something he could fix quickly because his erection was getting painful. He had been hard most of the night.

“This is about Sirius,” Michael said angrily. “You want me to… You want me to be like him.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Remus asked, feigning ignorance. He was quite good at lying, but it was too late to cover-up now, after Michael had already seen it.

“I’ve seen how you two are,” he said bitterly. “And I thought… I thought it didn’t matter. That I could care for you enough that it wouldn’t matter.” He turned to Remus and looked at him sadly. “But you still love him. And obviously you still want him,” he added, gesturing towards Remus’ crotch.

“I’m here with _you_ ,” Remus said, trying to think in his head what had given him away. “I’m snogging you and getting hard with _you_ in this bed.”

Michael pursed his lips. “I won’t be second-choice,” he said slowly. “I have too much self-respect for that.” He didn’t let Remus cut him off. “You won’t stop being friends with him— And I wouldn’t ask you to. And if you don’t, you will never stop loving him. I’m… I’m falling in love with you, Remus, and I need to get out now if I don’t want my heart broken.”

The werewolf’s shoulders sagged, and he sat next to Michael. “Michael…”

“Let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” the blond said, then gulped. “I would like to say we could stay friends, but we both know that we can’t.”

Remus held Michael, and the other boy held him back. “I’m drunk, you know,” Remus lied. He wasn’t even sure why he was lying. He was not upset that they were breaking up, not really. He wasn’t in love with Michael. But instinct told him to try to hold on.

Michael chuckled. “No you’re not.” He pulled his head back a little to face Remus. His eyes were shining with tears but he was smiling. “It’s alright, Remus. It was good while it lasted.”

How was it that Remus kept making mistakes, hurting people, and end up getting only kindness in return? Where were all these heartless boys that he had heard so much about from Lily and Marlene?

~

Remus did not tell his friends about the break-up. Partially because it felt awkward to randomly blurt it out, and partially because he was not sure how Sirius would take it. It did eventually come out, though, when they all met at the Lupins’ and Michael was noticeably absent. It was Hope who pointed it out before anybody else could, when she was setting the table for dinner.

“Five, six, seven,” she counted as she put plates down. “That’s it, of course, what with Michael and Remus having broken up.” She even cast a quick glance at Sirius, making Remus groan internally.

“Lily won’t let me buy anything for the new house,” James sighed, cutting into his pie. “This is delicious by the way, Mrs. Lupin,” he added. “Anyway. She will not let me even _touch_ the list of things to buy. I feel so…untrusted.”

“Oh alright, maybe I’ll let you,” said Lily, looking slightly worried.

“I don’t know that that’s wise,” quipped James immediately, and the whole table except for the redhead burst into laughter.

Lily glared at James. “Why do I bother with you, Potter?” she asked.

“Because you love me,” he replied, grinning and looking at her with so much love in his eyes that even Remus had to admit to feeling something in his chest.

“I do,” she conceded, edges of her mouth twitching. “Merlin knows how you managed to make that happen…”

“Persistence,” Peter mumbled around a mouthful of potatoes.

“Stalking,” Sirius offered, at the same time.

“Complete lack of self-respect,” Remus said with a nod.

James glared at them for a moment before turning back to Lily. “By being absolutely brilliant and everything you could ever want in a man, Evans.” He paused. “Not that your name will be Evans for much longer.” He grinned happily to himself and went back to his food while Lily blushed and shook her head, smiling.

Sirius was unusually quiet throughout the evening, and was also exceptionally polite. Remus wasn’t too surprised as Sirius tended to up his pureblood manners whenever he was around adults he cared about. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin’s presence seemed to get him to behave, and Remus was not going to complain.

Except, unfortunately, Sirius’ politeness and mildness apparently pleased Hope, and she made sure Remus knew about it, the second the boys disappeared from the fireplace.

“Sirius was _wonderful_ this evening!” she commented, smiling. “And he looked rather dashing in that button-up, I must say. I know most wizards insist on wearing robes but Muggle fashion has so _much_ to offer. Not that that boy needs much, with that face and body…”

“Ma!” he exclaimed, cutting off her monologue.

“What? He’s handsome! I have eyes!” she scoffed, undeterred. After a short pause, she continued. “When are you getting back together with him? I wouldn’t mind seeing him more often.”

"You know, mum," he said, halfway between annoyed and amused. "People **_warn_** their kids about Sirius. They want their dear daughters and sons to stay away from the Bad Boy. In fact, they highly encourage them dating nice blokes like Michael."

"But you two broke up," she said, knowing Remus couldn't argue the point.

"Right. Two old boyfriends. Why do you insist on trying to get me back together with Sirius and not Michael?" Not that he would ever get back with Michael, but his mother didn't need to know that. "If for no other reason, for the risk of destroying our friendship alone, I shouldn't be with him. It barely survived our first breakup."

"Cariad, I..." she started, then sighed, shaking her head. "I can't make you get together or break up with anyone. But you love him and he loves you, so what is holding you back?"

Remus was quiet for a beat too long for his mother not to catch on.

"Remus!" she gasped out.

He ducked his head as if she had hit it. She looked furious enough to.

"After all these years!"

"Mum, you don't understand, I--"

"Oh shush! **I** don't understand? Who would understand better? Who would know what it's like to love you and all that comes with it?"

"You... I grew up with you. It's different," Remus said as calmly as he could manage. He knew his mother hated it if he got gloomy about his lycanthropy but he was not being gloomy damn it, he was being reasonable. An adult.

"He grew up with you too! He knows what it means. Don't think I don't notice that they spend the days before and after the Full with you."

For a second, he wanted to tell his mother that they spent the time in between with Remus too, but he stopped himself. Not only because it was an illegal secret, but also because it would hurt his argument about Sirius not being able to be with a werewolf.

"He got... He got really upset when he saw my finger burns from the Ministry owl," he said, offering what he thought was a good example from the list of things-Sirius-could-not-handle.

"What, you think we didn't?" she asked, and her tone suggested that she thought him to be simple.

"Of course none of us like it, but we all know that is how life is. No reason to get angry and set tables on fire."

Hope raised an eyebrow. "Your father burnt the fingers of some poor bloke in the mailroom," she said dryly.

"What?"

"The first time you got an owl like that. He marched down to the owling department and went mad. Apparently burnt somebody's fingers shouting about that being what they did to you. It took three wizards to get him to leave, he said. But you know Lyall, I'm sure one Auror was enough." She sounded amused, as if recalling a fond memory.

"I never knew..."

"Of course not. If we dare get emotional, you get all _Remus_ on us. It's easier to just do whatever we want and not get lectured by our own son."

Remus scowled and blushed at the same time. "I'm not that bad."

"You are," she said lightly. She did not seem bothered.

"I only want you not to get upset or angry because I-- Because it's pointless, ma. I don't want you to get miserable over things we cannot change. That's sensible, not mean or whatever you are implying."

"What are you scared of?" she asked gently. "That he will get angry? Set tables on fire?"

Remus shrugged. There was more to it than that, but it would do. "I suppose. I don't want him to have to go through the trouble..."

"Anybody who loves you would."

"He doesn't deserve to have his life made worse because of what I am," Remus said in the end, impatiently. "I don't want him to get hurt."

Hope straightened up a bit, unused to her son snapping at her. But when she spoke, her voice was soft. "You're already hurting him."

The werewolf was taken aback. He stared at his mother for several moments. "He'll get over it. Find someone else." He didn't say how much that would break his heart, because it didn't matter.

"Cariad," she sighed, "He won't." Before Remus could protest, she cut him off. "And even if he could, he doesn't want to. I can see he's still hoping. It's written all over his face. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because he can tell that you love him. Maybe if you didn't he might lose hope, but you do and he knows it."


	17. Things to Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I told myself: From now on, shorter chapters. Not 6-months at a time, but 1-2 months at a time.  
> What actually happened: 7512 words.
> 
> As always; thank you for reading kudosing and commenting, y'all give me life! You can find me on tumblr @padfootmoony !

**1979, May/June**

 

**_"And the air was full of Thoughts and Things to Say. But at times like these, only the Small Things are ever said. Big Things lurk unsaid inside."_ **

_— Arundhati Roy_

 

“But… I… But _why_?” Lily asked incredulously. She didn’t sound angry or even annoyed, but simply amazed at the sight before her.

Sirius was covered in various colors of paint, as was James, in his stag form. The paint on Prongs’ body was focused on his antlers, with only a few splashes on the rest of his body. He was stood in the middle of the living room of their new home, the one they would move into after the wedding, looking like - for the lack of a more appropriate term - a deer in headlights.

“Evans,” Sirius said, putting on his best this-isn’t-what-it-looks-like-Professor demeanor. “You weren’t supposed to be back until dinner.”

“It’s past six and—” Lily started explaining, then stopped herself, looking irritated. “I don’t need to explain why I’m in my _own home_ , Black. What in Merlin’s name is going on?”

James, for some odd reason, looked at Remus and Peter, as if looking for guidance.

“Can’t help you here, mate,” Peter said cheerfully, walking towards the kitchen with several bags in his hands.

“Lily,” Remus said, putting an arm around her, startling her into looking away from James. Lily looked at Remus expectantly, either for an explanation or for words of consolation. After all, Lily had told Remus countless times that he was the _sensible_ one, the one that made her believe the two dark-haired boys might not be terrible after all if _Remus_ put up with them.

“You’re engaged to a Marauder,” he said, instead, dead-pan. “This kind of thing will always happen in the name of fun.”

Sirius puffed out his chest and started guffawing his bark of a laughter immediately, and even Prongs stood up straighter, seemingly proud.

Lily took a big breath, then, closing her eyes, started talking in her Head Girl voice: “Potter. Black. You have ten minutes to fix this.” She pointed around the house which had several broken (and painted) pieces of furniture. “God help you if you so much as _looked_ at our bedroom.” She paused. “I’m going into the kitchen now,” she said slowly, trying to make it clear that they should start fixing this and _quick_.

James turned back into his human form, and made to move towards Lily as she walked. “Lilypad, my love—”

“Save it Potter,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Just fix it.”

“You know,” he said, grinning as he walked backwards next to her, “That isn’t going to work out come next spring. You will be a Potter too.”

She smiled in spite of her self, but didn’t let herself look at her goofy fiancé. James moved away and back to Sirius and Remus’ side after blowing her a few kisses.

“So what _was_ the thought process here, if there was one?” Remus asked James as he charmed the rips out of the curtains.

“Thanks Moony,” James said, pointing at his wand, before answering. “Well,” he said then, shrugging, “We figured since we have to paint the walls anyway…”

Remus furrowed his brows. “You would ruin the furniture meanwhile? You know you paid a small fortune for these.” He walked over to a broken vase that he was quite sure cost more than what he’d earn in a month at the pub. “Reparo.” The vase was no longer broken, but it didn’t stand quite right either. “You’re probably going to need to replace at least some of these. None of us are _that_ good at restoration spells.”

James didn’t seem worried, not that Remus had expected him to be. “Padfoot and I made a bet about how many spots I could mark with my antlers,” he explained, looking marginally ashamed as he levitated broken pieces of furniture around the room.

Sirius, this whole time, had been leaning against a wall and grinning at his two friends.

“Don’t fancy helping the mess you started?” Remus asked him with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Do I ever?” Sirius shot back and chuckled.

“No, suppose not,” Remus answered, grinning back. Then the werewolf returned to fixing things. He couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. He knew he should not be amused by this - at least shake his head at how immature his friends were being. Instead he found himself finding their childishness endearing.

“I— Er— I need to go into the bedroom for— A thing—” James spluttered, looking nervous.

“You _did_ go in there too, didn’t you Prongs?” Remus sighed, still smiling. Sirius laughed again. Merlin, could that boy _stop being attractive for one second so Remus could lead a normal life?_

“Might have,” James laughed, scratching his cheek. He turned to leave, then looked back. “You two going to be alright?” he asked carefully.

“We can be alone in the same room, Jamie,” Sirius said, all laughter and warmth gone from his voice in an instant.

The tension in the room could be cut with a sword. Remus blinked, surprised, and his smile slowly died down. Obviously something had happened previously, and the two brothers were tense from an argument before.

“Just asking,” James murmured, and walked out.

Remus kept working on cleaning off paint. He stared at a pillow for a long time, trying to figure out what color it originally was.

“I think that one always looked like that,” Sirius said softly, taking it from Remus’ hand and whispering a spell. The pillow looked cleaner, but had splashes of color on it still. “Art, I suppose,” the Animagus added with a shrug.

The werewolf nodded, trying not to focus on the fact that Sirius was _right there_ and that he could smell his scent so clearly. He failed. He tilted his head and saw that his friend was looking at him with the same look he imagined he himself had: Tentative affection.

They stood like that for a while, Sirius holding the pillow with one hand. Remus didn’t know what the dark-haired boy was thinking, but he was trying to see in his eyes what his mother did. Did Sirius really love him? Or was it not having Remus that was making seducing the werewolf a mission for him? And what, if either, he should hope for.

“Get a room,” Peter said cheerfully, breaking their pleasant - if slightly awkward - staring. Lily giggled.

“Don’t christen my house before I get a chance to!” she scolded playfully. “Here, Wormy, put down the second tray,” she added, pointing towards the dining table across the room.

Sirius gave Remus a small smile and looked away, putting the pillow down before walking over to the table. “And what have we here, Evans?” he asked, “Delicious pastries? Bake them yourself, have you?”

“Ha-ha,” Lily said, sticking her tongue out. “I bought them at that amazing bakery five minutes from Diagon Alley. If I could bake like that, I wouldn’t have settled for Potter.”

“Ouch, Lily-love, don’t say that,” James said, frowning as he walked into the living room.

“You know I love you,” she said sweetly, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Not sure why, but I do.”

He smiled and held on to her waist. “I have some ideas why you might,” he said lecherously.

“FRIENDS IN THE ROOM!” Peter shouted, setting down plates for everyone with his wand.

Sirius was making gagging motions while Remus was looking intently at a fork.

Soon they all settled around the table and were enjoying the pastries which were every bit as delicious as Lily had promised. They didn’t know it, but it would be the last meal they would have, all five of them together.

~

A week later, James and Lily attended a small party thrown by the Potters to congratulate a break-through melding potion by a colleague of Mr. Potter’s. There was a Death Eater attack and although all of James’ family survived, they were all left shaken. Ten wizards and witches, in total, were lost, as well as three muggles who happened to be hiking nearby. For Remus it was the start of the war truly ‘hitting home’.

Sirius could not stop fidgeting as they waited outside James’ ward’s door at St. Mungo’s. “There were - what - thirty people there? Not even. How could he have _known_?” He paced the corridor as he talked to himself. “And even if he did, why does Voldemort care? Most people there were purebloods. Most potioneers are. Too boring a subject for Muggle-borns, probably.”

“Aurors are invest—” Peter started, but Sirius’ glare stopped him.

“They didn’t use the killing curse,” the raven-haired boy continued, nodding to himself as if confirming a suspicion. “Only on the Muggles. Which is odd, wouldn’t they want to torture Muggles and make quick work of wizards?”

“Padfoot, I think the Healer is walking this way,” Remus said gently. Sirius turned to him as if he had just noticed his presence. He may have, since the werewolf had walked in ten minutes ago and the Animagus had not acknowledged him yet, too wrapped up in his panic.

He threw himself at Remus, and held him tightly. The dirty-blond was stunned for a few moments, but returned the embrace later.

“Remus,” he kept whispering into his hair.

Remus didn’t know how to respond, so he just held on, enjoying the physical support at a difficult time like this. They had been told James would be fine, but the fact that the couple were still being kept in separate observation rooms was worrisome.

The Healer had indeed approached them, and coughed to announce his presence. Sirius turned to him, getting out of the hug, but held onto Remus’ hand.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he started, looking at the three boys easily a decade or three his junior. They must all look like children to him.

“How are they?” Peter asked just as Sirius asked “How is he?”. Remus looked at the Healer expectantly.

“There is little sign of physical damage,” the Healer said slowly, “Miss Evans had rots on her arms but that has been mostly healed. She just needs rest for now.”

“‘Rots’?”

The Healer nodded. “They hit her with a spell to make her flesh rot.”

Peter and Sirius made a disgusted face.

“And James?”

“He’s…” the Healer started, then furrowed his brows. He seemed confused and preoccupied, but not in a way that scared Remus. “We’re not sure what he has been hit with. He had a lot of cuts all over him, which we healed— But he still isn’t…” His voice drifted off, and he left the sentence unfinished.

“He’s unconscious?” Peter whispered in fear.

“Oh,” the Healer said, sounding surprised. “No, no, no.” He frowned. “Far from it.”

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked, irritated. “Just tell us.”

The Healer scratched his beard for a few moments in thought. “He has been hit with something to alter his state of mind. We cannot get him to calm down.”

Peter took in a small gasp. Sirius swore.

“What exactly do you mean, sir?” Remus asked politely. “What is he doing?”

“He refuses to lay down and he has broken several of our healing apparatuses. The nurses tell me he has set the door on fire two times.”

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up, and he stopped frowning. Peter looked a bit more relaxed as well. Remus tried not to smile in relief. Setting things on fire did not sound unlike James in his “right” mind.

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Has anyone spoken to him?”

“They have. He’s only saying his fiancee’s name. Screams it, rather.” He frowned again, looking at the chart in his hand as if it held answers to why that might be. “One of the nurses suspects trauma - which, of course, anybody who survives an attack like this has - but his behavior is too volatile to just be the result of that. Perhaps a Confundus, I thought, but the counter-spell did not work.”

“Have you tried letting him see Lily?” Remus asked, polite and gentle again.

“Not in his state, he can’t,” the Healer said sternly, “Miss Evans needs rest, not for her bed to catch on fire or—” He glanced at the chart. “Or for him to turn the curtain hooks into ferrets causing chaos around the room.”

At that, Peter couldn’t help a chortle. The Healer turned to him and frowned. He then took in Sirius and Remus’ expressions which seemed worlds away from the worried, panicked faces of mere minutes ago. “What?” he asked them.

“Our friend, he…” Remus started, then licked his lips quickly before continuing. “He just survived an attack with his family and fiancee. He won’t calm down until he sees either her or someone from his family.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter have been put on spell-sleep. They have not suffered much damage but are too old to be awake for the healing process, or for fast-acting potions.”

Remus nodded. “Us, then,” he offered.

The Healer eyed them warily.

“Letting friends see a patient in such a state would be highly unusual. Not sure if it’s allowed, even,” he said slowly.

“I’m his brother,” Sirius said quickly.

“Mr. Black, you are _not_ his brother,” the Healer sighed.

Sirius’ eyes shined with anger but before he could say or do anything, Remus cut in. “Let me in,” he said, “And I will calm James down. Then, you can do as you see fit.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the man nodded, and gestured towards James’ door.

“Bloody Prefect,” Sirius scoffed.

“Teacher’s pet,” Peter agreed.

As the Healer started opening the door to the ward for Remus, the werewolf turned to his disgruntled friends. “Don’t worry,” he told them, “If he’s setting things on fire, he’s fine.”

“Still odd for him to say _nothing_ but ‘Lily’,” Peter said, but his nod showed that he agreed with Remus.

“Don’t worry Wormy,” Remus said lightly, “I’m sure he will be demanding shots of Firewhiskey for us all soon.”

When he had the chance, many years later, Remus looked at this memory through a pensieve, trying to figure out if there was a sign of betrayal all the way back then, the first attack on the Potters. It struck him how terribly young they all were. As an adult, he couldn’t see anything but fear in any of the boys’ eyes and body language, no matter how hard he tried. He remembered being strong and stoic, at least on the outside. In the pensieve memory, he looked anything but. A young boy shaking like leaf, like his other two friends, was all he had been. He had thought the Healer had seen him as strong and capable, and that was why he had let him see James. But no, the Healer probably had pitied the terrified young boys before him, and picked the least agitated one.

~

The Healer opened the door slightly ajar, and immediately ice formed between the door and its frame, at the bottom, making sure it would not close again.

“Let me out!” came a growl. It was odd to hear anger in James’ voice and although he had expected it, the werewolf was startled by it. He hadn’t heard it since Sirius sent Snape to the Willow.

“There are protection spells on these doors, how in Merlin’s name—” the Healer started muttering to himself, annoyed.

“I thought you said he only called for Lily?” Remus asked, amused, as several spells hit the door  and left puffs of smoke instead managing to penetrate it. James’ shouts became increasingly frustrated.

“Mr. Potter,” the Healer said, struggling to sound professional. “If you do not stop this nonsense immediately, I will be forced to—”

“Prongs,” Remus called out, and the spells stopped.

“Moony?” he asked, tentatively.

“Prongs, how many times do I have to tell you - concentration, _not_ frustration. That’s why the ice worked: You were concentrated, waiting for the door to open. Your spells get weaker when you let anger distract you.”

There was a long pause, and the werewolf wondered if James had managed to escape through a window.

“Bloody hell, Moony,” James sighed. “Stop being a professor for a _second_ , you _twat_.”

Remus smiled. “Never. Now be reasonable and this gentleman will let you see Lily.”

“Lily,” the Animagus repeated, and the Healer made a gesture with his arms at Remus as if to say ‘see?’.

“Yes,” Remus said patiently to the crack, although he couldn’t see his friend yet.

“I’m being perfectly reasonable,” James said and Remus could hear the sulk on his face.

“You cursed two nurses!” the Healer exploded.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“They wouldn’t let me leave!”

“They were doing their jobs!”

“Their job is _not_ to keep me away from my wife!”

“Not quite your wife yet, mate,” Remus said, watching the argument with a hint of amusement. The Healer scowled at him.

“Shut up, Moony.”

“You git, just calm down and I’ll take you to her. After you apologize to the nurses.”

James’ face appeared in front of the crack by the door. For all his enraged shouting, he looked scared rather than angry. “She’s alright, right Remus?” he asked softly.

“Of course. Would I be here if she weren’t?”

James seemed to consider this for a moment. “S’pose not.”

“You’ll behave?”  
A disgruntled groan.

“Jamie.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“But he has a stupid face.”

Remus shot a glance at the Healer, who seemed appalled at the conversation happening in front of him. The werewolf hummed thoughtfully. The Healer’s face and neck grew red with fury. Remus could only imagine what James had put him through before now. He had seen that look on the faces of many a tortured professor at Hogwarts. The Healer seemed more upset now that he realized James was not under some sort of curse but that he was just being an arsehole.

“I think you would rather make friends than enemies, Jamie,” Remus said slowly. “Especially considering how often you will end up at St. Mungo’s as an Auror.”

“I’m an _excellent_ Auror,” James scoffed.

“James,” Remus said softly, “It’s ok. She’s alright. I promise.”

There was another long pause, and Remus could no longer see James’ face.

“I didn’t— I don’t know where they came from.”

“I know.”

“It was just a small gathering, we didn’t have anybody keeping guard. I thought it would be safe.”

“I know, Jamie. It should have been.”

“Mum? Dad?”

“They’re both fine.”

“I thought so. I saw them Apparate,” James said, his voice sounding very far away.

“That’s good.”

“I think he knew.”

“Who knew?”  
“Whoever— I think maybe Rosier? He had that bastard’s stance. He barely aimed at me. Always at Lily. Same with Voldemort. He was the one who somehow sent a curse _around_ me and gave her this— This black thing all over her arms. It’s like they knew who the purebloods were.”

“They probably did,” Remus mused, hoping talking was calming his friend down, even with a door between them. “Come on, Jamie. Come see Lily with me.” The Healer gave Remus a look as if he were going to object, but the werewolf shook his head. “It will make you feel better. But they won’t let you, until you calm down. They want her to have some peace and quiet.”

“But she’s marrying a Potter,” James tried to joke, but his voice was hollow and humorless.

“That’s what I tried explaining earlier,” Remus said, just as solemnly.

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“Alright,” James whispered in the end, and handed Remus his wand through the door crack.

“There’s a good lad,” Remus said, grabbing it. Then, he looked at the Healer, who sighed back but waved his wand to open the door fully. He glared at James as he walked through it, not sparing a glance at the older wizard.

“Lead the way, Moony!” he said with fake cheer.

As soon as they stepped out, Sirius and Peter jumped onto James and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

“You daft bastard, you scared us!” Peter said as he stepped back.

“Don’t get into fights without me, Potter! You know you’ll lose,” Sirius joked.

After that day, James’ attitude towards dueling and fighting shifted slightly. Not fully; he still roared with laughter and cast silly curses like jelly-legs in the middle of a battle, but he was more cautious and always acutely aware of his teammates, even those who were not one of the Marauders. Sirius called him out on it during a raid, accusing him of having a hero syndrome, but even his best friend’s mocking did not shake James’ resolve to protect those around him.

~

“James,” Lily moaned, “I just don’t think this is possible.” She was pored over their dining room table, which was full of flyers - most of which were either making some sort of noise or shooting out sparks of something or the other, advertising their product.

“Lily,” her fiancé said, rubbing her shoulders, “Who took _eight_ NEWTs, and aced them?”

“I did,” she mumbled.

“Who talked back to _Slughorn_ like nobody’s business, points be damned, cementing your place in my heart for ever?”

“Me,” she said with a small laugh.

“Who said no to the irresistible James Potter not once, not thrice but about a few hundred times?”

She snorted. “That one was not difficult.”

“I’m trying to be nice here,” James fake-scolded her.

“Alright, alright,” she laughed, then coughed, pretending to get back to being serious. “I did.”

James continued massaging her shoulders, moving up to her neck and she bowed it in response, enjoying the feeling. “And who started a Muggle footie club at _Hogwarts_ of all places, because she’d be damned if she didn’t get to play sports just because she wasn’t on the Quidditch team?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked, turning back to him with amusement in her eyes.

“Shows your drive and energy. Dear Merlin, until you set that thing up, you were on the pitch more than _I_ was, on top of running around making people sign up.”

She smiled, but then frowned again when she looked down at the table. She sighed. “But this… It’s just too much, James. Look at all these options and whatever we pick, we have to make sure it works with everything _else_ we’ve picked. You wanted lilies - which I agree with, it’s sweet - but none of the other colors we have liked would actually _go_ with yellow-white lilies.” She pursed her lips in a McGonagall-like fashion. “We were supposed to have a _year_ to prepare for this. Test everything.”

James sat down besides her. “Lily,” he said, “We don’t— We don’t _have_ to, but I… I want you to be my wife already.”

“We’re still teenagers.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No, I just… What’s the rush? Why does it have to be _this_ summer? How can we ensure everything is perfect if we have no time to plan?”

“Lily,” James said with a grin, “The wedding doesn’t have to be perfect. I just want you to be my wife before— We don’t know what could happen tomorrow…”

At this point, they had both been present for two attacks where Voldemort himself had been present, and James had had countless duels since his being an Auror _and_ in the Order meant he was constantly on some mission or the other.

“Do you _have_ to have a big do?” Sirius asked, not sounding ashamed at his eavesdropping in the least. They were in the same room, after all, although the conversation between the two had been somewhat private.

The couple looked at him.

“I— I mean…” Lily started, then just looked at her fiancé questioningly.

“Most girls want a big do, Padfoot,” James said sagely, sounding very proud of himself for knowing such a fact.

“And I’m ‘most girls’, am I?” Lily asked sarcastically, but didn’t look offended.

“No my Lilypad you are the most amazing, most vivacious, most wonderfulest—”

Ignoring him, Lily turned to Sirius again. “Why do you ask?”

“It just seems like whenever you talk about all this,” he said, gesturing at the table, “You seem more concerned if the _other_ likes this or that, than yourself. Doesn’t sound like either of you is doing it for themselves.”

James and Lily looked at each other. James shrugged.

“I thought you _wanted_ a big party,” Lily said, unsure.

“It’s what people do, isn’t it?” James mused, “But I don’t care too much, as long as everybody we love is there.”

“We still have to invite Petunia,” Lily said with warning in her tone.

James and Sirius smirked.

“Oh don’t you smirk, Black. As if you wouldn’t invite Regulus to _your_ wedding. It’s just… It’s family.”

Remus froze. He was still - somehow - holding his book in his hands but hearing Regulus’ name shocked him and he felt something akin to fear. He tried to listen to the rest of the conversation, but found it difficult to concentrate.

“You hate her _that_ much?” Sirius asked, sounding more entertained than anything else.

“You don’t hate Regulus,” Remus found himself saying, and didn’t think anybody had heard him until his friends turned towards him. He pretended to be reading his book still.

“I guess…” Lily said, breaking the awkward silence, “I guess we can have something simple? And only one, not one Muggle and one wizarding like we thought at first. Let’s just… Let’s keep it marginally magical - maybe charmed menus, things like that - but our outfits Muggle. Most of our friends enjoy Muggle fashion anyway.”

“Does that mean I get to marry you sooner?” James asked excitedly.

“I thought Sirius was the puppy,” Lily giggled, nodding.

“I’m a fully-grown dog now, I’ll have you know,” Sirius said, tearing his eyes away from Remus at last.

It took another five minutes of idle chatter between the three before Remus’ heartbeat slowed down. He was going to see Regulus that night. Not that they could know. They _couldn’t_. Could Lily have been told by Dumbledore? Or suspected? Was that what the name-drop had been about?

“Of _course_ you’re reading a book called ‘The Pleasure of Hating’,” Sirius said, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. Apparently Sirius was now bored with Lily and James and ready to bother Remus for the rest of the evening.

“It’s a good book!” the dirty-blond protested.

Sirius grabbed the book out of the werewolf’s hand, and ignored the yelp of irritation (“Oi!”). He flipped through it and ended on a random page.

“‘This man is dead: behold his sepulchre, and now hear where Ninus is. Sometime I was Ninus, and drew the breath of a living man, but now I am nothing but clay.’” He made a face. “Cheerful,” he said sarcastically, and dropped the book back onto Remus’ lap.

“I don’t have to explain my literary taste to a man who can barely read,” Remus said lightly, and tried to find the page he had been reading when Sirius grabbed the book from his hands.

“I can too read,” Sirius said, and sat down next to Remus. He opened a bottle of beer and looked downwards instead of at the werewolf. “Of all the many, _many_ faults Walburga had, raising an uneducated son was not one of them.”

Remus hummed.

“Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne, je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends,” Sirius said, his voice sultry and low as a poem like this demands.

The werewolf closed his eyes and smiled. “I do so like it when you speak French,” he said, even though the Animagus was well aware of this fact.

“I know you do, Moony,” he said and gave him a pat on the knee. “Tell me when you want me to, and I will be at your service.”

Remus drew his knees back, and sat up straighter. He thought of what his mother had told him, about Sirius loving him still. He thought of how he had to see Regulus - poor, young Regulus - in two hours. Of how badly Sirius would want to know what is happening with his brother, with Remus overall, and all the things he couldn’t share…

He couldn’t do this right now. He made to get up. “I need to leave soon,” he announced.

“Moony, is it because I—” Sirius started, but the werewolf shook his head, cutting him off.

“I’m already running late. I have another meeting with a contact tonight, and he insists on using tiresomely convoluted methods of transportation to the meeting points. Which, of course, always change.”

“Is your source Moody?” James asked, eyebrows raised.

“I wish! That man is more straight-forward,” Remus said with a chuckle. He got up and packed his bag.

“Be careful,” Sirius told him as they were hugging goodbye.

“Don’t worry, Sirius, this source… He’s not dangerous.”

“Alright,” the Animagus replied, but didn’t sound too convinced.

~

“Hey,” Remus said softly, making the dark-haired man jump and spill some of his whiskey onto the dusty table. “Nice place.”

“It’s an unused summer house, wolf. In better shape than your parents’ home probably is,” Regulus bit back, irritated.

Remus raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t unusual for the younger man to insult him - quite common, in fact - but he seemed particularly on edge tonight.

“Whiskey?” he asked, changing the subject. “That’s an interesting choice.” He didn’t add that it seemed like a pretender’s drink: A boy trying to look older and more sophisticated. After all, he’d watched James and Sirius do the same. Sirius still enjoyed the taste, but Remus couldn’t imagine he truly appreciated it at sixteen. No, he had just been trying to seem - to _be_ \- older.

Then again, with such a weight on the young Black’s shoulders, who could blame him some liquid courage? Some pretend strength?

“I drink what I drink,” came the cool reply. He composed himself a little, and started speaking again. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that unless you _mean_ to startle them and ruin their drink.”

“I came to a meeting place _you_ decided, Regulus,” Remus said softly. That was his way with Regulus; the gentle wolf, the safe, tame creature who would do Dumbledore’s bidding. Regulus was like a bird, easy to scare off. One of the reasons Aberforth had not been chosen as a point of contact, as well as Remus’ closeness to him in age.

“You’re early.”

“I’m always early. As are you. I just chose to make myself known, this time. You know the game we play,” Remus said easily.

Regulus nodded. He did know.

“Aren’t you going to drink?” he asked, his voice slipping into the cocky Black lilt, coloring a confidence that did not lie underneath. “I have more. Or wine, if that’s more to your taste.” He paused, then smiled what the werewolf could only describe as an evil grin. “That sounds like something brother would like.”

“He’s a whiskey man like yourself, actually,” the dirty-blond replied, not wanting to change the subject too quickly. Regulus often did this: Try to speak about Sirius. Remus couldn’t wait until the day the two brothers could speak face to face again, without the war between them. He hoped they got a chance.

“Seen him lately, have you?” the younger man asked, trying and failing to sound casual, and pouring Remus a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Yes,” Remus responded, not seeing the harm. It was well-known that the Marauders were still friends.

“I hear you are not _with_ him, anymore.” Questioning. Searching for information.

 _That’s my role,_ Remus thought, but replied nonetheless. “No, not in that way. Not for a long time.”

Regulus nodded to himself, and raised his glass towards Remus, gesturing a silent ‘cheers’. They both drank a sip.

“What news do you have?” the werewolf asked.

Regulus shot him a curious look, and Remus tried to match it with one of Sirius’ as he had been doing with Regulus from the beginning, but this one was not in his mental catalogue. He didn’t know what the younger Black brother was thinking or feeling.

“Why?”

“Why do I ask you about the news you have?” Remus asked, pretending not to understand his meaning. “That’s rather the reason for our little rendezvous, wouldn’t you say?”

“Why did he leave you?”

“Why do you think _he_ left _me_?” Remus asked, unable to stop himself from sounding a tad irritated. He knew how little Regulus thought of him for being a half-breed, but that didn’t mean that he liked it.

“Because if _you_ had tried to leave _him_ , you two would still be together,” Regulus said, then laughed the cruel bark that a younger Sirius might have. A Sirius untouched by the teenage angst of their relationship or the heaviness of this war. The bully, that once was. Regulus was anything but a bully, but the demeanor was there. Remus wondered what would have happened if the two brothers’ ages had been the other way around.

“Oh?” he asked lightly, raising his eyebrows and taking too big a gulp of his whiskey.

“Sirius doesn’t let his toys go. He has never taken rejection well.”

 _He seemed to take rejection from your family quite well indeed,_ Remus wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to speak ill of Walburga and Orion to Regulus.

Regulus shot him a sideways look again, sneering. He looked triumphant and the werewolf wondered if his irritation showed. Probably not, but then again Regulus might take even the silence as a sign of defeat on Remus’ part.

“You miss him,” he declared.

 _As do you_ , Remus didn’t say. Instead, he forced out a laugh, then downed the rest of the whiskey. It was good, expensive whiskey that flowed down his throat smoothly. “We’re here to talk about broken hearts, are we?” he asked, trying not to sound too mocking. “Do you have girl trouble, is that it, Reggie?”

At that, Regulus paused. His smirk bled off and he stared at his glass for several moments thoughtfully. He shook his head ‘no’. He looked towards Remus, but not at his face. “I will… I will do something.”

The werewolf sat up straighter, sensing that they were finally at the point where they discuss the important news Regulus would share this time. He nodded.

“I will not see you again,” he said slowly.

Remus’ eyes grew a fraction wider, and his heart started beating faster. No, Regulus couldn’t possibly mean… Why now? Why like this? Was this him turning into Sirius at last? Going up in Voldemort’s face to quit?

“You can… We can protect you,” he said lamely, knowing they couldn’t. Not if Regulus wanted to leave _right now_.

Regulus shook his head again, and smiled sadly. It reminded Remus of Sirius’ sad smile when they used to talk about his parents when they were younger. ‘No, she won’t send me a Christmas card,’ young Sirius would say, pretending not to care.

“Regulus, you don’t have to—” Remus said, worried, but couldn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t have to what? He didn’t even know what Regulus would do, not really. “Why now?” he asked, instead of ‘what’ which surely Regulus couldn’t say.

The dark-haired boy took a deep breath, and, visibly gathering his courage, turned to Remus and looked him straight in the eyes. “I have to. He— I can’t let him— I have to.”

“You have to,” Remus repeated, a half-question, unable to ask ‘what’.

Regulus fisted his hands, and Remus imagined he was also clenching his jaw, although it was difficult to tell. He nodded.

“Why did we meet?” he asked softly, knowing all too well that it was probably for comfort. Who else could Regulus go to? No one. Any friends he had were surely Death Eaters or sympathizers. He wished he could hug him.

After a long moment of hesitation, Regulus closed the gap between them, but in an unexpected way. He was kissing Remus. Startled, the werewolf didn’t shake him off, but did not respond either. After a few seconds, Regulus pulled back slightly, getting off of his chair to get properly close to the werewolf.

“Regulus what—?”

“You must miss him. I look like him.”

“You don’t— Regulus—” Remus spluttered while trying to fend off Regulus who was already attempting to unbutton his top, and was planting kisses on his jaw. “Regulus are you even gay?”

The young Black chuckled darkly. “I need— You don’t understand, werewolf. It’s not only you I won’t see after tomorrow.”

Remus was quiet as Regulus took his shirt off, then his own. He stared at him blankly, wondering what to do. Regulus was telling him he would die. And before he died, he wanted to…

“You should talk to Sirius,” he found himself saying, and held Regulus’ wrists to stop him.

Regulus looked at Remus, eyes full of misery. “I can’t. He would try to stop me.”

“Of course he would.”

“But you are not.”

“I am.”

“I have to, werewolf. I have to.”

“Whatever you have to do, we can do it together, we can get help, we—”

“It’s me. It needs to be me. Nobody else can be put in— Not yet— It has to be me.”

Remus didn’t speak for a while, but let Regulus’ wrists go. They were on the floor now, and Regulus was looking at him hungrily but not moving.

“And this is..?” Remus asked, gesturing between them.

“You’re a good person,” Regulus said, as if this explained anything.

“Thank you?”

“I want to feel good. I want to— I want to be—” the dark-haired man started, then stopped himself, and Remus could see him forcing down emotions.

“You want to be wanted by something good,” Remus whispered, knowing all too well what that felt like. When all you see is darkness in you, somebody _good_ wanting you in any way is a craving like no other. Remus thought both he and Sirius probably gravitated to James for that reason more than any other. James, the inexplicably Good One of the bunch.

 _How funny_ , he thought. Remus, the dark creature with a dark mind, was Good in Regulus’ mind. He supposed it made sense on some level. He was Dumbledore’s man, after all. Compared to the people Regulus saw on a daily basis, he might seem rather saintly.

“And this— This will feel good?” he asked, moving in closer. It wouldn’t be the worst reason to have sex with someone. If comfort is all Regulus could take, Remus could give that to him.

“I don’t need to pretend.”

~

That night, Remus started writing letters to his friends that he could never send. Aberforth had suggested it one day when he got frustrated with the secrets. Said he could give them the letters once the war ends. If nothing else, putting quill to paper can be cathartic, he’d advised. Remus would have to burn anything that held anything of actual value, of course, and whatever he kept would need to be under heavy guarding spells. There was a reason secrets were secrets, after all. If he never spoke to his friends but let the enemy get _written_ information about his missions, it would all have been for naught.

But Aberforth needn’t have worried. The things Remus wrote were not things the Death Eaters could use, not really. They were personal. He spoke of his love and his grief, when he lost people.

 

~~_Padfoot,_ ~~

~~_Sirius,_ ~~

_Dear Sirius,_

 

_I am writing to you because Aberforth suggested it might help, since I cannot_ **_talk_ ** _to you about what I am doing. I don’t know if it will work. I have never kept a journal, not a real one._

_I miss you._

_I saw him today. He looks so much like you. I wonder what things would have been like, without this war between you._

_I wish I could tell you. I wish I could talk to you about anything and everything, the way we used to. I can tell that you are worried, and I can do nothing to soothe you._

_Remember when you struggled in Muggle Studies and pretended not to care until we were cuddling one day and I could tell something was on your mind? You had shrugged and told me yourself, not making me prod. I loved that you shared that with me. A tiny sliver of a crack on Sirius Black’s infallible perfection, and you trusted me with that. It was a small thing, but not even James knew. Silly to care about, now that I think about it._

~~_Ma_ ~~

_Mum says you still love me._

_I must be the most selfish man alive because I so hope that you do, and that you can wait until this damn war is over so we can try again._

_This letter is one for the fireplace, surely. I can’t imagine ever letting you read this._

 

_Love,_

_Remus_

~

Regulus died the next month. Remus couldn’t tell anyone what that meant to him. How he’d died. He heard the news from Longbottom who’d been part of the team who questioned Nott.

 

_Dear Sirius,_

 

_Your brother died yesterday. He died before you two could speak as brothers once again. He was so brave. You would have been proud. I’ll tell you one day, when it’s safe._

 

_Remus_

~

“He’s an idiot,” Sirius growled after Dumbledore announced Regulus’ death at the next Order meeting. “Was. Was an idiot,” he corrected himself.

“He was your brother,” James said softly, looking around nervously.

“You’re my brother,” Sirius spat back, all venom and no warmth.

Remus stayed quiet, although both of his friends kept giving him looks.

“He was a Death Eater,” Peter said, “It happens.” He was sweating, obviously scared. James and Remus didn’t contradict him or scold him for his lack of tact. They knew he was speaking out of fear, fear for all of their lives. They could die tomorrow just as quickly as Regulus had.

“He tried to leave,” Remus said to Sirius, since Dumbledore had shared as much with the rest of the Order as his ‘theory’.

“That’s what Albus says, yes,” Sirius responded, and gave Remus an odd look, probably suspecting he might know more.

“Well, if that’s true, that’s quite noble of him, is it not?”

“He’s an idiot,” the older Black brother repeated, “He should never have joined them. And if he had, he should have had the conviction to stay. Being a turn-cloak to a man like Voldemort means death. Easier ways to die.”

The werewolf didn’t press it further, but licked his lips nervously. The Order members at the meeting were starting to disperse. Sirius gave Remus another solemn look, then took his arm. “Come by to ours,” he said.

For a second Remus was confused, and was about to tell him that they didn’t live together. Then he realized Sirius meant the flat he and James shared. He nodded.

“Prongs,” the Animagus told James, “Give us some time, yeah?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. They floo’d back to the flat. Sirius brought the werewolf a Butterbeer without asking Remus first, knowing he might need a light drink. He took some whiskey for himself. Remus tried not to draw parallels, as impossible as it was. Tonight was about Regulus after all, he couldn’t really stop thinking about him.

“Remus,” Sirius started once they were both sat on the couch, with the tone of a person who had practiced a speech. “Stop resisting this,” he continued, and the werewolf was genuinely taken aback. He stared at his friend, waiting for his next words. “We’re meant to be together, you know that. Why fight it? Why fight it when we can die tomorrow?” He looked at werewolf with the same defiance he’d had when asking ‘why wouldn’t we become Animagi?’ or ‘why can’t I leave my family at age sixteen?’. The world had to bend to his will, how could it not?

“We can’t live together,” Remus said quickly, surprising himself as much as Sirius. He had accepted it immediately, hadn’t even given one excuse why they couldn’t be together again. Because he felt it too. He felt that they could be dead the next day. He didn’t want to deny himself this any more. Maybe if they lived apart, kept it casual enough…

“Can I kiss you?” he asked the shocked Animagus.

“Merlin, Moony…” he said in response, and dove in to start the kiss himself.

 _We should talk about Regulus,_ Remus thought in the back of his mind. _We shouldn’t do this out of grief_.

But it was so difficult to care with Sirius’ hands running across his side, with his warm lips on his, smelling faintly of Firewhiskey but mostly _Sirius_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always; thank you for reading kudosing and commenting, y'all give me life! You can find me on tumblr @padfootmoony !


	18. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is an insecure little werewolf. Sirius gets a bike.

**1979, Summer/Fall**

 

**_I remember we were driving, driving in your car_ **

**_Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk_ **

**_City lights lay out before us_ **

**_And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder_ **

**_I had a feeling that I belonged_ **

**_I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone_ **

_Fast Car - Tracy Chapman_

 

“You sure this is a good idea?” the werewolf gasped between kisses.

Sirius stopped lifting Remus’ shirt up, and drew back his head a few inches to look at him in the eyes. “What?”

“This— Is this a good idea? Don’t you want— Don’t you want to be unattached— Auror training and—” he spluttered, his thoughts scattered. With the lust and having Sirius so close to him again, it was difficult to keep his thoughts straight.

“Moony, what are you babbling on about?” Sirius asked impatiently, frowning.

“Is this just sex?”

“No it’s not just— Bloody _hell_ Remus!” the Animagus growled, lifting himself off of Remus and sitting on the couch. “You are _infuriating!_ ”

Remus gulped. “It will be a relationship, then. Again.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s— Is that a good idea?” he asked nervously.

Sirius turned to him and glared, nostrils flaring. “I don’t know, Remus,” he spat, “Is it?”

“Don’t get angry at me.”

“Don’t be infuriating, then!”

“I just want to make sure I understand what this is, and that it is really what you want. I told you I couldn’t live with you. But a relationship means monogamy for me, regardless of living arrangements.”

“Are you asking me if I just want to fuck or if I really want to be with you?” Sirius asked, anger gone from his voice. He sounded surprised more than anything else.

Remus shrugged and looked at a stray piece of string on the couch.

“Moony I… You’re _all I want_ ,” Sirius said. It almost sounded like he was in physical pain. Remus didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t understand why the Animagus had to be so dramatic about it all. He had simply been asking practical questions…

“Then you have me,” he found himself saying, unable to bear the sight of him being upset any longer.

The left corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched, holding back a smile. He raised an eyebrow at Remus, and asked carefully: “You’re not going to be a pillock about it if I kiss you again?”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Remus said playfully, leaning in to kiss Sirius again.

He got a barked out laughter as reward for his cheek. “ _Infuriating_ ,” Sirius repeated, this time without any venom. “You infuriating—” A quick kiss. “Bloody—” A nibble on the neck. “Impossible—” A lick on the nape. “Werewolf.” A kiss on his chest.

~

“ _Finally_ ,” James said with a grin at the sight of his two friends casually holding hands on their living room couch, when he walked in on them about a week after their chat. They had not exactly _hidden_ their reunion, but they had not told anyone yet either.

 _I suppose now we have, in a way,_ Remus thought.

“Hey Jamie,” he said sheepishly, straightening himself up. He glanced down at his hastily-thrown-back robe and felt himself blush.

“Oh don’t stop on my account,” the bespectacled boy said with a snort, “I just had to come back to pick up some boxes that I still have here. Reckon I’ll only leave one box of clothes until the move, only one month left anyway.”

“And your toothbrush, I hope,” Sirius said, squeezing Remus’ hand idly as he talked to James.

“You’re the one with dog breath, Padfoot, not me.”

“I beg to differ. My breath doesn’t smell. I am a Black.” He turned to the werewolf for confirmation.

“Well…”

Sirius dropped his hand in fake offense. “Betrayed!” he howled, “By my very own—” He paused. “Boyfriend?”

Remus nodded.

“Boyfriend,” Sirius repeated with a grin.

James stopped and turned around, frowning at his two friends. “Merlin, we have to go through the puppy love stage all over again, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said lightly, holding back a smirk. Sirius simply grinned.

James opened his mouth, looking like he was about to threaten them with boils if they didn’t get a grip but he stopped himself and hummed thoughtfully instead. “Actually,” he said slowly, “Do whatever you want. _Nothing_ can be as bad as Padfoot pining. Half the reason I’m moving out, really.”

“That hurts,” Sirius said, just as Remus said “I thought you wanted to marry Lily.”

“Sure,” James said to Remus, “I wanted to marry her _one day_. But one of the days Pads was going on and _on_ about you something just _snapped_. If I had to hear one more time how thin you looked and was Michael feeding you and— I just _knew_ I had to get out somehow. Proposed to Lily that very night.”

“Pillock,” Sirius said lightly, but looked uncomfortable. “You planned that proposal for months.”

“Months of listening to your whiny arse.”

“Can’t you just congratulate two friends on their re-found romance and move along, Prongs?”

“I could,” James agreed with a shrug, “But where’s the fun in that? This way I get to embarrass you.”

He got hit on the head with a pillow.

James raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Moony?”

“Be nice to my boyfriend.”

Sirius guffawed. James frowned.

“You’re going to start taking his side on every argument now, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Remus said with a quick nod. Sirius beamed, and took Remus’ hand back in his own.

“I forgot how annoying you two were. I take back any well wishes I had for your love life.” He started walking towards his room again. “Please keep your pants on until I leave. I just have a few things to pick up, won’t be five minutes.”

“I don’t know if I can do five whole minutes, Prongsie,” Sirius shouted after him, “But I can probably give you three.” He paused deliberately, still looking towards James’ room. “No wait, Moony just took his shirt off, all bets are off.”

When James came back to the living room close to ten minutes later, the two other Marauders were doing a crossword puzzle, each leaning on one side of the couch, their legs tangled up rather innocently.

“Can I open my eyes?” James asked, having walked out of his room with his lids shut.

“Not sure,” Remus said absentmindedly. “Can you get the fifth one Pads, the four letters down to the right? If you get that one, I _think_ I know what the Wiggenweld ingredient one is. Chizpurfle fang or wing, I forget which.”

“Chizpurfles don’t have wings, Moony,” Sirius said. “Honestly, how did you pass Care of Magical Creatures?”

Remus shrugged. “I tend to forget useless information a few moments after I’ve written the test for it.”

“And yet you remember potion ingredients,” Sirius responded sarcastically, and got a gentle kick from Remus in return.

By now, James had opened his eyes and was watching them in amusement. “Good to see you have immediately moved on to the old married couple stage,” he commented. “Lily and I could use another married couple to hang out with.”

Both boys smiled, but did not lift their eyes off of the papers in their hands.

They weren’t sure what this was now, not yet. But they knew that it felt good and it felt right: sitting on the same couch, spending time together. It was comfortable in a way it had never been when they were at Hogwarts. No stolen kisses between classes, no jealous rages about Remus’ study partners, or annoyance at Sirius’ “inability to stop being in detention for one bloody night so they could have a proper date”.

~

In the next five weeks, Remus found that Sirius had matured unexpectedly. When he first started noticing it, he had felt cheated, almost. Like his friend had had a whole separate life and moved on without him. Then he thought of how much _he_ had changed as well, how many memories he now had without the Marauders in them, and told himself not to be petty and instead enjoy the new Sirius.

Apart from the usual learnings of a young adult living alone for the first time such as how dishes do not, in fact, clean themselves (not until you cast a spell or two on them), Sirius had grown in a much deeper way that meant he didn’t want to go to clubs every weekend or prank his new boss. The grown-up Sirius seemed more interested in being a good Auror and making a difference.

His conviction and sometimes foolhardy courage was still there, though, which made Remus wary of opening the subject of Sirius potentially vouching for him for the Ministry. He had no doubt Sirius would accept it, but it was hard to tell if he could actually _accept_ it, once it started. The monthly Ministry visits, the way they spoke to Remus… The werewolf was worried he’d lose his right to live outside of his parents’ home the first time Sirius met somebody from the Department for Regulation and Control. Merlin help them all if a surprise visit happened while Sirius and Remus were in the middle of sex.

Yet another way Sirius was showing his maturity, though, was that he had not pushed Remus at all about his living arrangements. He hadn’t even asked him how he was getting by without a job. Perhaps James had told him about the stipend.

Could James have also told him about the taxes? Remus wondered…

Sirius did not reveal how much he knew, if anything at all, until the day the dirty-blond himself brought the subject up.

“I’ve spent the last two nights here,” Remus said as he got out of the shower.

Sirius kept brushing his teeth but glanced at him with a quizzical expression.

“I shouldn’t stay tonight,” Remus said, heart racing.

Sirius gave his upper teeth one last brush and spat into the sink. “Alright,” he said slowly, but did not seem surprised by the information. If anything, he seemed to have been expecting it.

“Had your way with me so I suppose you don’t care anymore, eh Padfoot?” Remus tried to joke, not knowing what else to say.

Goodness, why did he feel so awkward with Sirius all of a sudden? With the boy who had seen him throw up across the room after gillyweed, a boy who had seen him do the most disgusting and embarrassing things, and laughed with him?

Remus had thought he had long since lost his sense of shame around the Marauders, and yet here he was, shy and feeling ashamed for no good reason at all.

Sirius finished rinsing his mouth and smiled. “You know I’ll never turn down a Moony in my bed. But I understand.”

And there it was - a flash of something in Sirius’ eyes that meant that he knew something. He wasn’t just being polite. He wasn’t being mature. He _knew_ something.

“Oh?” Remus asked, feeling scared and brave at the same time, now that he knew there was something that Sirius knew already. “And what is it that you understand?”

He had tried to sound casual, but of course Sirius had seen right through him. The Animagus gave a small sigh and swore under his breath. “We’re going to this?” he asked, looking alarmingly worried.

“Do what?” the werewolf said, as casually as he could.

Sirius turned around and leaned against the sink, looking at Remus who was now done drying himself with a towel, and the two young men stared at each other for a few moments.

“Don’t get pissed off at Prongs” was the first thing Sirius said.

The werewolf blinked in confusion for a few seconds before understanding Sirius’ worry. “Oh,” he said in realization, “It’s alright. Wasn’t a secret. And if it were, it would be his to tell.”

How could he blame James for saying anything to Sirius? He hadn’t sworn him to secrecy, and seeing as how he was _paying_ Remus’ taxes, the werewolf thought it would have been rather ludicrous to make demands of confidentiality from his friend about how he spent his own money. He _had_ assumed James would keep it to himself, but was not surprised he had told Sirius, nor angry.

This seemed to relax Sirius, who gave Remus a small smile.

“He wasn’t— He didn’t even tell me, exactly. I was going to charm his sheets and found some Ministry letters on his bed.”

“‘Charm his sheets’?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He ate the last piece of pie that Alice had brought,” Sirius explained grimly, “And he had to pay.”

“Right,” chuckled the werewolf, then the awkward aura came back. “Well,” he said slowly, “I am not sure how much you saw, but… I guess you know that James has, ah, been helping me.”

Sirius nodded. “I suppose you are paying him back partially. You never _could_ accept help. I’m glad you’re taking it at all.”

Remus blushed and bit his lower lip.

“Not that you have to pay him back at all,” Sirius said hurriedly, realizing the mistake he’d made. “That knobhead wouldn’t notice if somebody took twice that much from him every week.” This didn’t seem to help. If anything, Remus looked even less comfortable now. “What I mean is— Er—” Sirius spluttered, not knowing how to turn his phrase around. In the end, he gave up. “I’m happy you’re not being a berk about this like you were with the Animagus thing.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but did seem to relax ever-so-slightly. They stood in silence for a while. Eventually Remus started getting dressed and Sirius sat on the bed. He was looking at the sheets pensively when the werewolf decided they had had enough of a silence to cool off from the awkward conversation in the bathroom earlier.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, expecting Sirius to say ‘Order business’ or ‘work’.

Instead, the Animagus turned his thoughtful gaze onto the werewolf. “Why are you acting weird about where you sleep at night, then?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh…”

“I assumed it was a rent thing, that you were saving money to pay Jamie back. But now I am not sure why you care where you spend the night. Is it to not give me, ah, ‘the wrong impression’?”

“‘The wrong impression’?” Remus repeated.

“I know I come on a bit strong. Is this to help me cool off?”

It was extremely tempting to say ‘yes, yes that is exactly why’. Sirius sure seemed ready to accept it.

Remus sighed. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Sirius…” He chewed on his lower lip for a couple of seconds. “You have to promise to be reasonable about this,” he warned. The dark-haired boy’s eyebrows rose in interest, and Remus could practically see Padfoot’s ears perk up. “I get visits from the Ministry, and they are often random, meaning I cannot be sure when they will show up. I risk it every now and again, but it is too dangerous to try it many nights in a row, especially if they _have_ come to visit but I simply didn’t know because they didn’t tell my parents.”

The Auror in Sirius immediately kicked in, and he had a rather emotionless but curious look on his face. “Random checks. To make sure you’re not out causing trouble?” he asked.

The werewolf nodded. “Partially.”

“But what do you do when you go on missions?” Sirius said, frowning, looking around the room as he thought. “You are gone for _weeks_ sometimes.”

“Dumbledore or Aberforth write a letter for me, telling them I am at Hogwarts or somesuch,” Remus explained.

“They both have the same last name, but I know what you mean,” Sirius said absentmindedly, his brain clearly still chewing on this new information. “So they care more about _where_ you are than what you are doing, if they don’t bother checking Hogwarts.”

“Well, you know how convincing Dumbledore is, and how much they respect him. I think once they did come to check, and he told them I was in the Forbidden Forest. I also do go to Hogwarts every now and again, so it is not difficult to find eyewitnesses.”

Sirius pursed his lips and looked at the werewolf again. “Why do they care?” he asked dangerously.

“I’m a werewolf,” Remus said, averting his eyes.

“And?” Sirius demanded. “That’s not all there is. That wouldn’t explain the constant supervision. They suspect you of something.”

Remus was surprised enough to look back at the Animagus in confusion. “What?” he asked. Before Sirius could answer, he understood. “Oh. No.” He chuckled. “No. At least I don’t believe so. This has been the same since— Since I left Hogwarts.”

“What’s up their arses then, spending all this time and resources on doing random checks on a werewolf?”

The dirty-blond gulped, fighting the urge to look away again. “They want to make sure I am complying with the regulations,” he said slowly, “One of which is my place of residence.”

“You are not _allowed_ to move out of your parents’ cottage? Is that why you have been so worried about me asking you to move in?” Sirius asked, again with more curiosity in his tone than anything else.

“Almost as soon as we got together at Hogwarts, we stopped sleeping separately. You can’t deny we tend to, ah, get physically attached rather quickly.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “But I reckon they can’t expect you to _never_ move out. Even if you didn’t, one day your parents will die and then who will take care of you after the Full?”

“I don’t think that’s on the top of their priority list but you are correct, I could not live there alone if my parents passed away.” He didn’t elaborate, even though he knew Sirius was about to make him do so.

“Spit it out, Moony, I would like to get some sleep at some point tonight,” the Animagus asked predictably, and with the hint of a threat in his tone. Must work rather well in Auror interrogations, Remus thought. Firm, but not too strong.

“I need to have a… A wizard or witch… With me.”

It took Sirius way too little time to comprehend, and Remus almost wished that he had fallen in love with a dense man. “They want somebody to own you?” Sirius whispered incredulously, with wide eyes, “Like a bloody house-elf?”

“No, no,” Remus said immediately, then stopped with a frown. _Was_ that the thought process the Ministry had had? He shook his head as if he could physically shake away the thought, and continued talking. “They simply don’t trust werewolves to be, well, responsible. So a wizard or witch has to… Vouch for them, so to speak. Promise they’ll be good little werewolves.” There was more than a little contempt in his voice.

The dark haired boy frowned, and looked searchingly into Remus’ eyes while the werewolf fidgeted under the intense gaze.

“And James wouldn’t?” he asked with what he probably imagined to be veiled anger.

“I don’t want to live with James,” Remus replied, confused.

“You have to live with them,” Sirius said; a half-question.

Remus nodded.

“So I could,” Sirius asked.

“You could…”

“But you don’t want me to. That’s what you lost the plot about us living together.” Sirius was now looking at the werewolf the same way he looked at a worthy adversary before he dueled them, and it frankly scared Remus a little.

“I think it is a lot to take on after a few dates,” the dirty-blond responded politically.

Sirius snorted. “We are past a few dates in _any_ sense of the word, Moony.”

“Yes, well.” He didn’t have an answer, so he did not say anything more.

“What does this entail, this owne— ‘vouching’ business?”

“What you would imagine. Swear to be responsible and ensure I do not harm others, and all that.”

“Would be rather ironic, me promising to keep you the docile Prefect in line,” Sirius said with an evil grin.

“I suppose,” Remus said, not seeing humor in the situation.

Sirius nodded to himself. “What else?”

“They would do random checks wherever we lived, same as they do with my family.”

“There’s more. It entitles me to something, and you don’t want me to know or have it.”

“Are you planning to be a detective? I thought you preferred the front line,” Remus accused, feeling attacked.

“I don’t like it when you keep things from me,” Sirius said simply, and did not sound hostile. “What has you so worried? Do I get to kill you if I want, or some rubbish like that?”

“You could kill me now if you wanted, humans wouldn’t face prosecution for killing a werewolf,” Remus said without thinking, making Sirius lose his grin.

“What then?” he asked, irritated.

“I am not worried about you having power over me,” Remus sighed, and sat down next to Sirius, looking ahead at the wall. “I trust you. It’s not that…” He paused, letting his eyes follow patterns on the wall. He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of how you will react. You never took it well when people treated me anything less than what you thought appropriate. Which, frankly, was a bit over-the-top. I remember you hexed someone once for not saying ‘thank you’ to me _nicely enough_ after I lent them my notes.”

The Animagus chuckled. “You know me too well, Moony.” Remus didn’t turn to Sirius, but could feel his eyes on the side of his face. “But I can be a good boy. I can stop myself from hexing those idiots from the Ministry when they come to visit.”

Remus considered it for a moment. “Even if they visit when we’re having sex?” he asked, looking at his boyfriend again.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Mr. Lupin, are you suggesting we would engage in inappropriate activities where we might be walked in on?”

“We literally just now finished having sex on the rug in front of the fireplace,” Remus said dryly, “It is not outside the realm of possibility that we will be in an inappropriate position when somebody tries to floo in. Floo blocks don’t work on Ministry officials.”

“They’ll have a good show, then,” Sirius said with a grin. He looked like a dog with a bone, so to speak.

“You seem too happy about this,” the werewolf said, suspicious.

“You are moving in with me,” Sirius said happily.

“I don’t remember saying that,” Remus said, but was smiling.

“Oh pish posh,” was the reply he got, along with an eye-roll. “You never want to leave my side. I see how disappointed you look when you put your robes on and leave at night.” He grinned lecherously. “And who can blame you?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and gesturing at his body.

Remus blushed and smiled shyly.

“Now tell me what paperwork I need to do and I’ll work on that while you go back home and pack.”

~

"What was THAT?" Sirius gasped after a loud roar whizzed past them.

"What?" Remus asked, looking up from his notes. They were trying to find a specific Muggle shop on Oxford street and he was trying to decipher Lily's handwriting.

“That! It went by like a broom almost but really, _really_ fast," Sirius explained in a rush, still breathless, "And it sounded like your dad's car when he can't start it. But louder." He grinned like he had just seen somebody naked for the first time in his life. "It was brilliant."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows momentarily before it clicked into place. "Oh, you mean the motorcycle that just went by?"

"Is that what they are called? 'Cycle' - makes sense, it did have two wheels," Sirius said, nodding furiously. "How does it work?"

"It's like a car, but on two wheels," Remus said distractedly, already going back to the notes and taking a left. He did not bother to look behind him to see if Sirius was following.

"Cars don't go that fast," Sirius mused, "Is it charmed?"

"No, all motorcycles go quite fast," Remus said. He finally put the parchment away and started to read the numbers on the walls. They were close. "In fact, most go much faster than that."

If Remus had not been distracted, he would have seen the dangerous glint in Sirius' eyes.

"So it's the same as a car, legally speaking? Your father could get one?"

Remus laughed.

If Sirius had not asked him thousands of inane questions over the months they had lived in the Muggle neighborhood, the werewolf might have noticed the red flags before he did. As it was, he was used to giving Sirius long explanations regarding the most boring aspects of a Muggle life, and didn't even give it a second thought as he spoke.

"Theoretically, I suppose," he said. He chuckled again trying to imagine his father on a motorcycle. The image of his quiet, reserved father awkwardly trying not to fall while mounting a Harley was hilarious. "Lyall Lupin on a motorcycle would be a sight to see," he said. "Also, he would need to get a separate license for that and he only has one for cars. Motorcycles are vehicles but you still need a separate license, they are very different to drive." He glanced at Sirius, who was looking at a red bus. "Same with buses, before you ask," Remus added, "It's not like the Knight Bus where the bus itself is charmed to handle itself for the most part."

"I'm going to get one," Sirius declared.

Remus stopped so suddenly that his boyfriend ran into him. He didn't feel the pain of Sirius stepping on his foot because he was too busy being terrified.

"A bus?" he asked hopefully, already knowing the answer.

"A motorcycle," Sirius said with a grin.

Remus knew that grin all too well. His eyebrows shot up in an expression of desperation. "Sirius..." he said, voice trailing off as he had no idea how to finish that sentence.

"Where can I get one? Do you think I could ride one home? I've never been that great on a broom but I feel if my balls weren't aching the whole time--"

The werewolf cut him off with a gentle hand on his chest. "Sirius," he said slowly but deliberately, "You don't just go and pick up a motorcycle. You have to do your research. It's not like a broom where you have only a few choices. There are literally thousands of models. Also, you _will_  take lessons before you dare attempt getting on one. I am _not_  going to a funeral caused by sheer stupidity."

Sirius' lips curled into a moue momentarily before his excitement got the better of him. He started grinning and talking fast. "I will, Moony. I will do research. Tell me where I can find books on motocycles."

" _Motor_ cycles," Remus corrected, sounding unsure. "You want to read books? Do you even know how to read?"

"I can read," Sirius huffed in fake annoyance, "I read hundreds of pages when we worked on becoming Animagi, I'll have you know."

Remus couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory of what his friends had done for him. "I always assumed Peter had done the research and you two did the practical parts like stealing Mandrakes and such."

"I did both," the Animagus said and puffed up his chest proudly. "Now take me to a bookshop so we can buy books about motocycles."

"We still have to pick up the gift," Remus reminded him.

"What are we waiting for, then?" Sirius said urgently and started walking forward and reading the building numbers around him. "Twelve, eight,... Moony we've already past it! Wasn't it twenty?"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "How do you remember the number?"

"You were muttering it under your breath just now, you distracted werewolf. Come now, let's go, no time to waste! A bookshop awaits us!" He took Remus' wrist and started pulling him along like a child in a playground, earning a hearty laugh out of his boyfriend.

"Sirius Black _running_  to a bookshop. Not even the most powerful Seer would have seen that one coming, I don't think," he said, chuckling as he walked briskly behind his enthusiastic lover.

Later that day, as promised, Remus helped Sirius pick up several Muggle books on motorcycles, and even a few catalogs.

Over the next few months, the light-brown haired boy kept making jokes about Sirius finally becoming literate even if it was only to read magazines but truthfully he had known that Sirius would take this, well, seriously. If Sirius got passionate, he would turn into a Niffler and his target pure gold. When he had found out about Sex Pistols he had searched high and low to ensure he had every piece of lyric they had ever written (not easy for a wizard or anyone at the time, really), and had promptly memorized all of it. And that had been what James had called a ‘passing fancy’.

Almost three months after his grand research started, Sirius woke up one day around one in the afternoon (which was late even for him, but he had had a long night at work before), and declared that he knew what to do.

Remus looked up, hand still on the boiling kettle, and raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

“Er— Good? What are you doing? Are you going to quit because Moody was hard on you again?” His tone had gone from confused to teasing as he had gone on.

“First off, my dear Moony, Moody has no redeeming qualities except for the fact that his name is similar to yours—”

“Oh Merlin please don’t call me ‘Moody’ in bed,” Remus interrupted with a scowl, but Sirius kept talking over him.

“And second, he most definitely shows favoritism by being hard on me because he sees great potential in me—”

“He said that, did he?”

“And _third_ , you interrupting badger,” Sirius said, raising his voice to talk over his lover, “I have found her. The perfect bike.” He paused for what Remus assumed was a dramatic effect. “That’s what we call it, Moony, ‘bike’. Enthusiasts, those in the _know,_ call it a ‘bike’ not ‘motorcycle’ like some layman.”

“Good to know,” Remus said happily but the truth was that he felt dread in his stomach. True to his word, Sirius had taken some classes from a very confused (and probably Confunded afterwards) Muggle instructor. Sirius had assured Remus that he would be safe now. How he could say that after five whole lessons, Remus wasn’t sure.

“You’re not going to ask me about her?” the raven-haired boy asked with a pout.

“Sure,” Remus said, returning back to pouring himself some tea. He poured some for Sirius as well, without asking. “What color? Also how do you know that it’s a she?”

“She will be black of course— the coolest of vehicle colors, thank you very much. As for the gender, Moony, I figured you would be jealous if I started riding a strapping man.”

Remus chuckled as he handed Sirius his plain tea and mixed his own with a small bit of honey. Sirius took the cup wordlessly. After living together for so long, they didn’t need ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s for the most basic things. Even Remus had stopped after Sirius had started slapping him every time he said ‘thank you’, saying it was becoming unbearable.

“Of course,” Remus said gravely, “Can’t have you with another man now, can I? How reasonable of you.”

“Right, I knew you would say that,” Sirius said quickly. “But ask me more. What model, what year, what brand.”

Remus frowned. “I would have no idea what you said even if I asked you.”

Sirius looked only marginally disappointed, probably seeing Remus’ point. “You’re going to love her, Moony.”

“I rather think I won’t,” Remus said thoughtfully, “But whatever makes you happy, Padfoot.”

Sirius gave him a quick but passionate close-mouthed kiss on the lips before taking his tea into the living room.

The next day Sirius did indeed return with what even Remus had to admit was a good looking motorcycle. It was black, as promised (and mocked by James), and looked much nicer than ones Remus had seen parked on the street. He had mostly seen motorcycles that look like, well, bicycles who happened to have an engine, or ones with big cushiony seats that didn’t quite scream rebel, regardless of songs written about motorbikes.

But this one… It was sleek and, well, there was no other word for it, really— cool. Remus’ eyes lingered on the shiny metal and followed the curves through the vehicle. He knew Sirius’ eyes were on him and tried not to look too impressed, lest Sirius have the ridiculous idea that he liked it. 

"Come on Moony, it'll be great," Sirius whined for the third time that day. He had finally bought a Muggle motorcycle after months of pining after one. He would have bought one the second he learned what one was, but Remus had stopped him. He wanted to ride it every day.

“Why didn’t you give James a ride in your deathtrap if you wanted to ride with someone so bad?” Remus asked casually, not taking his eyes off of the parchments he was organizing.

Without even looking, Remus could visualize Sirius’ childish pout. “I’ll take him later. You first, Moony. You’re always first.”

Remus snorted. “Now that’s just not true. Even after we started dating, you took off with James countless times to do Merlin knows what.” Before Sirius could interject, he added quickly: “Not that I have an issue with that. I know what you have is different.” He raised his hand from the table momentarily to make a dismissive gesture to stress the fact that he did not care.

He did, a little, but that was neither here nor there. He honestly was not feeling jealous at the moment. He just valued his life more than Sirius and James did and most certainly did not like speeding, even on a broom. Muggle contraptions were much more dangerous.

The werewolf could hear and smell his lover walk towards him, but was still taken by surprise when a kiss landed on his cheek, and Sirius’ arms wrapped around him. “Come on, Moony, I promise we will stop if you don’t like it,” he said sweetly but with a deep voice, as if he were trying to seduce him. “I want you behind me, arms wrapped around my torso, holding me tight, your lovely ass rubbing against that smooth leather as you keep your head so close to my body that you can smell the leather of my jacket and the sweat on my neck. Holding me so close I can feel your cock against my back.”

Maybe he _was_ trying to seduce him. Remus didn’t respond right away, but did put down the parchments in his hands and raise an eyebrow at Sirius who couldn’t see as he was behind him. After a few moments of consideration - which was rather difficult with Sirius nuzzling his neck - Remus nodded. “Just for a few minutes,” he said, and let himself be dragged off by an enthusiastic Animagus. If humans had tails, Sirius would have been wagging his.

Putting on the helmet was uncomfortable at first, although it did get better after it was fully buckled up. Getting on the bike was awkward and Remus was glad he had long ago lost any pretense grace or mystery with his boyfriend. Sirius was kind and did not laugh at him.

Once they were settled, Remus had to admit that this part was pleasant. He was almost stuck to Sirius in anticipation of the movement that was about to come, scared before it even came. Sirius had been right; if Remus _had_ been hard Sirius surely would have felt it. Remus gave Sirius’ torso a quick squeeze to indicate that he was ready. The raven-haired boy chuckled and Remus enjoyed the vibration beneath his fingers as he did so.

And just like that, they were off.

It was terrifying. Initially. Then, as they whizzed through the streets, passing by houses and cars that became a passing blur, Remus felt his heart racing with more than terror. Sirius was laughing and ‘whoo’ing when he took certain turns, and the werewolf found himself joining him. Shouting did seem to make the intimidating turns (with their tendency to bring them way too close to the pavement for Remus’ liking) more bearable. And more…fun.

The werewolf got lost in thought while they drove through the streets, his lover’s scent in his nose and body beneath his fingers. Even through their clothing it felt good to be pressed up against him.

 _I feel like I’m drunk_ , he thought, finally having a word to - sort of - describe the feeling.

It felt like the best kind of drunk: Mental faculties intact but the world just a bit of a better place, hopes just a little bit higher than is reasonable. Every now and again he gave his lover a tight squeeze, unable to stop himself from showing some form of affection.

It felt like falling in love for the first time, a little. He felt like he was in the perfect spot, perfect time, with the perfect person. Where he belonged. With Sirius. He thought about their apartment and just how _right_ this felt made him forget his worries about how little his contribution to rent was (if at all), or anything else. This was how it was meant to be: Sirius and Remus. Remus and Sirius. The details didn’t matter, as long as they were together. Soon, Remus would find a job and hopefully get paid enough to save a little to buy Sirius a decent birthday gift this year. Maybe something for the bike?

All his worries disappeared, taken away by the wind hitting his face with his lover’s smell and leaving behind his cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement. He didn’t think about how he was a werewolf who had almost no chance of getting a real job, even a Muggle one (due to his inevitable absences). He didn’t think about how, living in a Muggle neighborhood, they had to be discreet about their affections in public. He didn’t think about how as soon as Sirius was promoted to Auror, he would need to go on more solo missions for both the Order and the Ministry. He didn’t think about how Dumbledore had hinted that it might be time for Remus to do more missions with the wolves. He didn’t think about how almost every issue of the Prophet had news of death in it.

Nothing, nothing mattered just then.

Only the rush the speed and wind was giving him. Only that his lover was in his arms, where he belonged. Together, as cliche as it sounded even in his head, they could do anything. Remus could maybe swallow his pride and let his friends find him a job, then show his value to his employer, that he was as good as any wizard. He could finally be somewhat equal to his friends. Be a person, and not just a werewolf.

To his surprise as well as Sirius’, Remus did not ask Sirius to stop until they started running out of gas and Sirius asked him, at a stop light, if he wanted Sirius to refuel or go back home. The werewolf, cheeks flushed, heart racing and his whole body shaking with exhilaration, had told him to bring them home. And Sirius had, without a comment or any sign of disappointment.

When they got back, Remus realized why Sirius was not disappointed. They had been out for almost two hours. It hadn’t felt that long… They undressed when they got home, Sirius shrugging off his leather jacket with ease and throwing it onto the couch while Remus folded his cardigan with shaky hands.

“Now I know why James plays Quidditch,” Remus said, shaken still form the experience, adrenaline running through his veins.

Sirius laughed and kissed him, leading them wordlessly towards the bedroom.

(source: [http://www.bike-urious.com](http://www.bike-urious.com/))


	19. The War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders all start feeling the war more closely. Somebody is pregnant!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, we now have an official end planned for this! I was planning to continue much further, but have now decided to divide it into different fics, and picked a good spot in the timeline to stop this long, long beast of a fic.
> 
> 19 down, 4 more chapters to go after this!
> 
> Later there will be bits and pieces of the Azkaban years, and I will post separate fics for the times that follow Harry's years in school (and DH).

******_The single saddest song you ever did sing_ **

**_Burned like kindling ’til tomorrow weighed in_ **

**_On the lines that “the times are a-changin’”_ **

**_Ain’t love just the strangest thing?_ **

_No Talking - The Zolas_

 

**1979/1980**

 

James and Lily’s wedding was meant to be big and joyful, the way James Potter had always lived his life. However, two weeks before the scheduled date, yet another devastating attack hit the Order. They had lost Benjy Fenwick and his fiancee Clair June. James, Lily, Alice and Frank had barely escaped with their lives. In the end, the couple had decided to have a small affair at a Muggle restaurant on a Wednesday night, with only close members of the family. All in all, they were less than fifteen people.

“You could still take it back, you know,” Petunia told Lily when James got up to get Mrs. Evans a shawl as the temperature was cooler than expected in the room.

“What do you mean, Petunia?” Lily asked, trying to keep her smile on.

“It has not even been a day. You could get it annulled, before it is too late. Before you, you know,” she said, then coughed. She took a sip of water to calm herself down. Whatever she was thinking of, it seemed to have scandalized her.

Lily looked around the table. Thankfully, nobody was paying attention to the two sisters, and their voices were low enough that even Remus was not glancing their way. “What, before we consummate?” Lily hissed, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. She had _had_ it with her sister. Some embarrassment would do her good.

Petunia gasped and started shaking her head furiously. “Don’t say it!” she whispered back.

“That thestral has fled the stable,” Lily said, giggling as she took another sip of wine. Her glass was empty. Good. She needed more. A whole bottle wouldn’t be enough for her to put up with her sister.

“Look at him,” Petunia said, scoffing in disapproval and glaring at James throwing a beautiful dark red shawl around their mother’s shoulder.

“What?” Lily asked, amused. “Helping our mother? Being a good husband?”

“He has _nothing_ Lily,” the thinner sister said, “Couldn’t even afford you a small wedding, instead brings you to this _restaurant_ as if that counts as a reception. Poor, lazy, good-for-nothing—”

“The Potters could buy your whole family three times over easily,” came a dark voice from behind them.

“Sirius, stay out of it,” Lily said, looking at James with desperation in her eyes.

In a flash, James was by her side, looking worriedly between his best friend and wife.

“Padfoot?” he asked, then put his hands on Lily’s shoulders as a show of support.

“This _woman_ , if you can call her that, has been bad-mouthing you all night,” Sirius said in a frigid, dangerous tone. Now the whole table was staring at them.

“Padfoot, it’s alright, go sit down,” James said quietly, hoping his best friend was not drunk enough to escalate this. They all knew what kind of woman Petunia was, they didn’t need to make a scene right now.

“James, you didn’t hear! She was insulting Mr. and Mrs.—” Sirius started, but was cut off by a firm hand on his arm.

“Sirius, stop,” Remus said sternly.

Sirius’ nostrils flared as he looked at Remus angrily. Then, after a few moments, he sighed and let his shoulders drop. “You’re still an—” he started saying over his shoulder, but was stopped by Remus’ hand squeezing his arm. After that, he quietly sat back down next to Peter.

The tension remained for several minutes but eventually the table erupted back into conversation. Even Petunia seemed a bit more willing to make small talk, even if it was only with her own parents and, surprisingly, Remus. When Sirius asked later how the werewolf could ever put up with her, he explained that he simply avoided any talk of magic and she remained civil. He didn’t explain _why_ he had done it. That was clear in the grateful looks and later hug that Lily gave him.

Once the food was gone, most of the table started dancing. Remus stayed put. He had never cared too much for dancing, and certainly did not want to do it with anybody that was not Sirius. And they could not do that, out here in a Muggle restaurant, not unless they wanted to cause trouble.

As Sirius picked up almost any girl in the restaurant to dance with one by one, Remus watched them silently. He didn’t feel jealous, not really. He mostly felt sad that they could not have even one dance. Besides, as the night drew on and people got drunker, the music changed into more disco and pop, not separating the couples as clearly as the slow songs had been. Even Peter would sometimes start the dance with one girl and end with another.

Then, out of nowhere, right after Blondie’s Sunday Girl, _their_ song started playing.

“Sunny!” the song started, and Remus’ breath caught. His eyes immediately searched the crowd for Sirius, but he couldn’t see him. The dance floor was busy enough that he probably had no hope of seeing the Animagus, no doubt right in the middle of it. It was his song, after all.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” came a whisper in his ear, and his head snapped around. He really must have drunk a lot, to not have heard Sirius sneak up on him.

“Sirius,” he said, worriedly looking around to see if anybody might have heard them, but got up to face the man so he would no longer have to bend over to reach Remus’ ear.

“Dance with me,” Sirius said. His voice was quiet, but he didn’t bother looking around to check on whether or not they could be heard the way Remus had.

“Padfoot, you know we can’t,” he mumbled uncomfortably, and held his left arm with his right hand.

“Come on Moony,” Sirius pleaded, “Everybody’s pissed, nobody will notice. It’s ‘Sunny’.”

“Maybe—” Remus started, then bit his lip and looked around. Only Petunia was still at the table, and she seemed engrossed in a letter in her hand. “Maybe not _together,_ but close?”

“I’ll take what I can get,” his boyfriend said with a grin and moved his hand as if to grab Remus’, then drew it back and headed back to the dance floor.

They stayed close throughout the song, and the one that came after that. Sirius managed to brush their hands and arms together a few times, and before he left the dance floor Remus pretended to stumble drunkenly so he could press himself against Sirius, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Overall, it was a splendid night. He had never seen James and Lily so happy, so lost in each other that they had forgotten, if only for a night, about the war.

~

“I don’t like cats,” was the first sentence out of Sirius’ mouth as they entered James and Lily’s house for the first time after it officially became theirs. They hadn’t had time for a true honeymoon, but they had spent one week blissfully out of touch with everyone, locked inside their home.

And now, there was an unfamiliar, brown and orange - and rather ugly, even Remus thought - cat rubbing itself on the hem of Sirius’ jeans.

“Just let yourself in,” Lily said sarcastically, exiting the kitchen and walking towards the two young men.

“Prongs never made me knock,” Sirius said, still frowning down at the cat. “What is this abomination doing here?”

The redhead picked up the cat and started stroking it happily. “Paws was a wedding present. Weren’t you, baby? Weren’t you?” she said, and the cat purred in response to getting petted under her chin.

“You never pet Padfoot. Didn’t even know you liked animals, Evans,” Sirius said, his childish moue intact.

“Are you jealous of a cat, Pads?” Remus said with a chuckle as he hung up their jackets. Then he turned to Lily. “Hey Lils. Beautiful house. We brought a house gift but Sirius here has to stop his jealous fit and hand it over.”

“I am not jealous. I just don’t like cats,” Sirius growled, but his hand reached inside his pocket obediently. He took out a neat, fancy envelope.

“Padfoot!” James said, then a dark brown blur made its way over to them and Sirius ended up with an armful of James hugging him.

“Missed me, Prongs?” he said, finally grinning.

“She makes me _read_ , Padfoot!”

“Are you complaining, Potter?” Lily asked in an amused tone, still petting their cat.

“Never, Lily-love,” he said, turning to her while still hugging his best friend. “But a man needs his mates, sometimes. You know. Macho energy.”

“Yeah, very macho,” Lily giggled, “Jealous of a kitten. Honestly, Sirius…”

James raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

“You even named it _Paws_. I mean come on, Prongs,” the taller Animagus mumbled.

“Lily named it, actually. Not after _Padfoot_ , Sirius. It’s not a replacement for you! After a Muggle movie. It’s about a killer shark.”

Sirius’ eyes perked up at that, then he schooled his face back into an irritated one. “I don’t like cats,” he repeated childishly.

Remus’ stomach growled. “Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner?” he suggested sheepishly. They all laughed.

“Wormy will be here any minute,” Lily said, going back into the kitchen, “You can start setting the table.”

As Lily had expected, Peter joined them shortly after. “Sorry about being late,” he said, “I couldn’t find the exact bottle I wanted to get you two.” He put down a rather expensive-looking, delicate bottle of champagne on the table.

“Oooh,” the redhead said and immediately reached for her wand to open it.

Just as they were pouring the champagne into glasses, Remus walked into the dining room with the salad bowl and cutlery floating behind him.

They had been laughing at a joke at Shacklebolt’s expense but as soon as Remus entered the room, Peter stopped.

“Remus?” he asked, as if seeing a friend unexpectedly after a long time.

“Er— Yes?” the werewolf answered, confused. He set down the salad in the middle of the table and reached for a glass of champagne.

“I thought you were— But Dumbledore said—” he started spluttering, then stopped. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I know we are not supposed to talk about Order business, especially not on a day like this.”

Remus gave him an odd look, still confused about what he was talking about, but didn’t press further, and the conversation drifted back to the champagne and where it came from. All the while, the werewolf kept wondering what Dumbledore might have told Peter. Was he about to get a new mission or assignment? Since Regulus’ death, he didn’t have any more human sources. Maybe another turn-cloak?

But no owls from Dumbledore arrived that week and in the next Order meeting, Remus got no new information from the old man. Within a week, he had forgotten all about Peter’s peculiar question.

~

From their conversations, Remus appeared to be the first of the Marauders (apart from James) to notice Lily’s pregnancy. She turned down prosecco at one of their casual outings and his mind immediately went to pregnancy. Although Peter said he had not noticed, it was quite unusual for anybody to pick up a personal detail before Peter, so Remus doubted that. He probably wanted to give the couple their privacy.

It was the day before Christmas when James finally told Sirius officially. The Animagus came back home and wasn’t even fully out of the fireplace before he started shouting.

“REMUS WE’RE HAVING A BABY!”

“I’m quite certain it is Lily who is pregnant, unless you have something to tell me,” Remus said, jokingly pretending to check Sirius’ belly for a baby bump.

“Har har,” Sirius said, but there was no real annoyance in his tone. He was too ecstatic to even pretend-bicker. James and Peter were shaking off floo dust from his robes.

“The polite way, these days,” James said, ignoring his friends’ antics, “Is to say that both the husband and wife are pregnant. Bugger if I know why.” He paused and turned to Sirius. “So we — as in Lily and I — are having a baby.”

“I’m happy for you,” Remus said with a smile at the same time Sirius said “OUR FIRST BABY!”

On Christmas eve, the Potters were there for an attack again. This time, the attack had been at an Order meeting. In the aftermath, nobody knew what to be scared of the most: The fact that the location of an Order meeting - a tightly controlled secret - was known, or that the Death Eaters had been bold and powerful enough to attack it. It was one thing to target missions with a handful of wizards and witches, and another thing completely to attack a meeting with most of the Order present.

Lily had refused to leave the house for days, after. She was not crying or even acting sad. She simply refused to leave the house. They didn’t dare mention it, but they knew she was scared for her unborn child. James was the same, but his reaction had been to lash out, to want to fight.

“I don’t know what to do, Sirius,” he whispered drunkenly one night at Sirius and Remus’ place. “I can’t— Lily hates me taking all these missions but I— I have to fight, I have to try to keep them away from my family.” He took a long sip of his whiskey. “But whatever I do just makes it worse. Tonight, a Death Eater told me it was a good thing I was out that night, so my ‘pretty redhead was alone at home for taking, like a lone lily’.” He took a deep, angry breath, shaking. “I incapacitated him, he is headed for Azkaban now. But what does it matter? He is not the only Death Eater out there. If I’m out there fighting, it gives them a chance to get to Lily. If I’m _not_ , then they are _winning_ , Sirius. They are winning.”

“We will win, James,” came Remus’ reassuring voice.

The Animagus was startled as he looked up at the werewolf. He had forgotten about him being there. He smiled sadly at his friend. “Moony, there are so _many_ of them. Maybe not Death Eaters, but sympathizers and people who help the bloody bastards.”

Sirius had been silent throughout the conversation, choosing instead to keep an arm around James and drown himself in whiskey.

“There may be more of them but we have our _conviction_ , James,” Remus said solemnly, “We are doing the right thing. And that counts for something, doesn’t it?”

“Everybody thinks they are doing the right thing,” James said quietly, and neither of his friends had a good come-back to that.

~

“I’m home!” Sirius said gloomily, shuffling out of his wet boots.

“Welcome home—” Remus started cheerfully, then halted as soon as he entered the hallway. His grin dropped. “You smell _foul_ , Padfoot.”

“Ta, Moony,” his boyfriend said, and took off his tattered robes. “Think I’ll just vanish these,” he said, looking at the stinking, muddy mess of cloth at his feet.

“I won’t stop you,” Remus said, not taking even a single more step towards his reeking partner.

“If _you_ are letting me throw away things, I know it’s bad,” Sirius tried to joke. Once he was completely naked, he vanished the clothes with a flick of his wand and moved further into the house. As he did, the werewolf took backwards steps, keeping his distance.

Sirius frowned. “Oh come on, Moony. It was a bloody miserable mission that took _three days_! I deserve a quick welcome kiss at least.”

“No,” Remus declared, and turned his back to head back into the living room where his tea was waiting for him. “I refuse to be close to you until you have showered thoroughly - three times should do it, hopefully - and smell like daffodils.”

“You know I prefer lavender soap, Remus,” Sirius said dryly, “If anything, I would smell like lavender.”

“Whatever flower you wish,” Remus shouted from the living room. “Just don’t come in here until you stop _reeking_.”

“Some welcome you’re giving your tired, tortured boyfriend,” Sirius complained as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“Sirius?” Remus asked immediately, head poking out of the living room door. “Are you hurt?”

“ _Now_ he asks,” Sirius joked, but then switched his tone to a more serious one when he saw real concern in the werewolf’s eyes. “Yes love, don’t worry. Had a few broken bones but Pomfrey and Lily mended all of them before I headed back here.” Remus visibly relaxed. “But I am still a bit achy, come to think of it,” Sirius said, the casual cockiness back in his voice. “So if you are offering me a sponge bath…”

  
“Maybe on your third one,” Remus said, pulling his head back and disappearing from the Animagus’ view. “I am not getting near you with a ten-foot broom until the stench clears off.”

Despite the horrible smell and their banter, Remus was, as always, impossibly happy that his lover had made it home safe and sound. The glee that bubbled up in his chest had almost made him kiss the boy at the doorstep, but even he had lines he could not cross. The stench was truly something else.


	20. Leave Tonight or Live and Die This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war doesn't only take lives, it also takes youth and relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, the scenes are quite short now. This is partially because I've decided to have more disjointed scenes as separate fics, and partially because we are almost at the end, now, but I want a pause between certain developments to kind of drive home the length of time between them.
> 
> I didn't want to join this chapter and the last one because word-count wise it would have made sense, but not time-wise.

**1980, Winter**

 

**_You got a fast car_ **

**_Is it fast enough so we can fly away_ **

**_We gotta make a decision_ **

**_Leave tonight or live and die this way_ **

 

**_So remember we were driving, driving in your car_ **

**_Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk_ **

**_City lights lay out before us_ **

**_And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder_ **

**_I had a feeling that I belonged_ **

**_I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone_ **

_Fast Car - Tracy Chapman_

 

“Where the FUCK have you been?” Sirius demanded, as he clutched on to Remus so tightly that, even without prior injuries, the werewolf almost winced in pain.

“Er— Hullo, Padfoot,” he said, then let out a breathless chuckle. “I missed you too.”

“Don’t give me that!” Sirius shouted, stepping back but still holding onto Remus’ robe with one hand. “Wormtail’s been back for _hours_!” He seemed on the verge of tears, if Sirius Black ever cried.

“Yeah,” Remus said slowly, “And then I had to go meet Aberforth. I’m here _now_ …” His eyes were concerned as he searched Sirius’ face.

“You should have owled. Should have told me,” the Animagus said, voice lower now, but every bit as enraged as it had been a few moments ago. “You were supposed to be back this morning. It’s almost noon.”

“Sirius, I had to meet Aberforth, it took three portkeys to get to the location,” Remus said gently, putting a hand over Sirius’ twitching one on his robes.

After a moment of internal conflict - Remus knew the signs by now: darting eyes, a small sigh - Sirius lunged forward and started kissing the werewolf. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. There was no biting or teasing nips as there often was when they made love, but Sirius’ tongue was harsh and, Remus thought, possessive. He seemed to be saying _mine,_ although the werewolf couldn’t imagine why. Did he think Remus was cheating on him? Having a romantic rendezvous at nine in the morning?

“You could have been killed,” Sirius breathed out shakily when they finally ended the kiss. His hands were still around Remus’ head. He looked broken, almost as sad as James had been the last time he and Lily got attacked.

“I’m alright, love,” the werewolf tried to comfort Sirius. Then, after a few seconds, his treacherous mind reminded him of something. “Wait,” he said, “You were a _day_ late from your mission last time. Howcome _I_ get this treatment, hmm?”

In his mind, with those words, Remus was trying to reason with his boyfriend, to get him to calm down because the Animagus was still heaving and looking scared. But something happened to Sirius’ expression that made him notice that he had struck a nerve unexpectedly.

What _had_ happened that last time? The werewolf hadn’t even asked, used to his own missions’ schedules being shifted all the time. And Sirius had _looked_ fine…

Now his boyfriend was looking at the door behind him with great interest, guilt written all over his face.

“Sirius?” he said, using his Prefect voice, even though that one had never worked on the other boy. “Sirius, what happened that time?”

The Animagus pursed his lips for a moment, then looked back at Remus. “That was because— I was—” he started, then halted. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he said curtly, but Remus could tell that he was regretful, if only a little.

“You were hurt," Remus said dumbly, then instinctively started looking over Sirius, as if he could see now injuries that he hadn't been able to see when they were fresh. He didn't know what to say, but his face was probably doing all the talking for him. It was perfectly blank and Sirius knew what that meant.

“Oh you don’t—” he growled in a sudden outburst that reminded the werewolf very much of his school days. “You don't get to act high and mighty. Get off your high hippogriff, you _hypocrite_! You don't think I notice when you come back from a mission or ' _meeting_ ' with a limp or wincing in pain when I hold you? You don't bloody well tell me everything either.” He had spat out the word ‘meeting’ in a way that made clear how much he disbelieved Remus when he used that word.

“We're not allowed to,” Remus said with a small voice, not having any better defense.

“Isn't that just grand?” Sirius said, all venom and no kindness, as worried as he clearly still was.

“I don't like it any more than you do.”

Sirius' expression softened. “I know, Moony. I know,” he sighed.

They stood in the doorway quietly for almost a minute before Remus coughed.

“I have bacon,” the other boy said then, nodding towards the kitchen. “Come, let's eat.”

~

They were celebrating. Finally, finally, they had some good news amongst all the bad. And even better, all Marauders were in London at the same time to enjoy it. No missions, not even reports to write.

“I just—” Sirius said, then paused to burp. “I just think this is fantastic, but we need more of it.”

“Let’s focus on the positive,” James said, pouring more whiskey into Sirius’ not-even-half-empty glass. “Karkaroff is locked away in a miserable cell. He was in Voldemort’s _close_ circle, he was.” He sounded proud, as if he had caught him himself. He had helped Moody track him a few times, but it had been Moody alone that finally captured the wizard, alone on a seemingly routine mission.

“There’s - what - a baker’s dozen of Death Eaters? Why haven’t we caught _all_ of them already?” Sirius slurred.

Remus almost choked on his drink. He wiped his face as well as he could, staring at Sirius amusedly the whole time. “A baker’s dozen?” he repeated.

James laughed boisterously. Peter looked confused. Sirius smirked at the whole table.“Yeah,” repeated with a nod. “We know most all of them by name now, too.”

“I…” Remus said, staring at his boyfriend, at a loss for words. Even the alcohol making his head buzz and swing in the most wonderful way was not allowing him comprehension of Sirius Black Logic right now.

“See? My logic is _sound_ ,” Sirius boasted, only to be hit in the head gently with a Butterbeer bottle. “Ow,” he said, but was grinning as he turned to his best friend. “What?”

“There are more, you know that. At least twice that many. I bet they have wild pillow fights.”

Sirius, James and Frank all drunkenly laughed at the silly joke. Remus felt the corner of his mouth twitch, but felt no desire to join his friends’ laughter. Peter wasn’t even smiling. “It’s not about the numbers,” he said, so quietly that even the werewolf barely heard him. There was no music, but the celebration of the Order members was loud enough to drown out his small voice.

Remus put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder, and gave him a crooked smile. Peter looked up and returned his kindness with a small nod and strained smile.

The werewolf knew his two dark-haired friends would never notice how much Peter was struggling. They never had. They saw courage and Right and Wrong in a much different way than Remus and Peter did. They thought it foolish and cowardly to second-think anything, diving in head-first into any situation that may be thrown their way.

But Remus and Peter had the unfortunate curse of foresight and thoughtfulness. They could not laugh about Death Eaters when they had merely captured _one_ when _two_ muggle-born families had been slaughtered just a week prior.

A few minutes later, James was trying to balance a whiskey glass on Sirius and Frank’s faces. He had already stuck their chins together with a spell. All three of them seemed to be enjoying the experience, oddly enough. Remus vaguely remembered telling James about the muggle game with an orange or apple being held by two people. Perhaps that’s where he had gotten the idea. He nodded towards the door and Peter followed him wordlessly. Neither of them smoked so they usually did not have an excuse to get out for fresh air, but everybody was too drunk to notice, now.

The shorter Marauder sighed deeply, and sat down on the stairs in one quick motion that only a drunk unafraid of breaking a bone would make. The werewolf’s movements were more deliberate and slow, but no less intoxicated. He guessed he looked rather funny, swinging as he tried to sit down on the asphalt.

“Bugger all this, eh Wormy?” he said, not knowing himself whether he was joking or not.

Peter looked at him - or rather, a few inches to the right of him - solemnly for a few moments, before speaking. “We’re all going to die, if we don’t do something,” he said. Impossibly, he sounded present and scared and far away and frozen at the same time. Remus wondered if this is what Karkaroff sounded like when he was questioned by Aurors before being locked up. Scared and resigned all in one neat package, wrapped with the bow of a promise of no happy tomorrows.

He scowled at his own inner monologue. _What is wrong with you, Lupin? That was unnecessarily dark._

“We’ll make it,” he said, trying to sound as sure of himself as James always did. _Well. Almost always._

“I don’t know,” Peter said quietly, shaking his head. Then he sighed, sat up a bit straighter, and started stretching his arms and neck.

And there, there was the courage of Peter Pettigrew that Sirius and James never understood. He _was_ scared. Terrified. Who wouldn’t be? But he was going to fight anyway. He was a pureblood, just like James and Sirius, but he did not have their magical abilities, nor their stakes. He was not in love with a Muggle-born or half-breed. He had no dog in this fight, so to speak.

And yet he was not going to stop. He was going to fight alongside them, knowing that more likely than not, they were all going to be dead before this time next year. Remus smiled down at his friend, wondering if even he himself understood how much of a Gryffindor he was. He didn’t need the bells and whistles, the cheers and House cups— he was brave simply because he was. He faced danger simply because he had to. There was no bravado. Only Doing The Right Thing. Only loyalty.

“Let’s go back in,” he said after a few comfortably silent minutes. “Freezing my bollocks off here.”

Peter agreed, and they went back in. James and Sirius did not ask where they had been, but Sirius gave Remus’ knee a tight squeeze to show that his return was appreciated.

~

Their joy was short-lived. That very night, Alice Longbottom did not come back home.

A week later, she was rescued from a cave up in the Scottish mountains by a group lead by her husband, Frank. She was shaken, but not irreversibly hurt. Nobody was allowed to know the details of what had happened, but she had been well enough to attend the next Order meeting.

Sirius kept glancing at her and Frank, despite Remus and James kicking his leg repeatedly to get him to stop. As soon as the meeting was over, he Apparated himself and Remus back to their house. He had side-Apparated Remus, not even wanting to wait long enough to tell him to head back home.

“Ah,” Remus said as he stumbled, trying to get his balance back. “What was that about, Pads?”

“I wanted to be home.”

“Alright,” the werewolf said carefully, knowing how unsettled his boyfriend had been about Alice’s absence. He made them tea, and Sirius followed him around the kitchen wordlessly.

When the cups were ready, he put them down on the table and motioned for Sirius to sit across from him. The Animagus complied, mumbling a quick “Ta” for the drink.

“Are you—” Remus started, but Sirius started speaking at the same time “You know—” They both stopped, and let out sad chuckles.

“You first,” the dirty-blond said, sipping his tea to busy his lips so Sirius would have an excuse to speak first.

“You know they went after her because he wasn’t home.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat. “I know.”

“And Parkinson, last month,” Sirius continued, looking at Remus as if urging him to crack a code or secret message.

“Yes.”

“You see the pattern?” the Animagus asked expectantly.

Remus frowned. “If you mean couples, Padfoot— Most people in the Order _are_ … If they weren’t, they are now. War does that, you know.”

Sirius licked his lips quickly. “True, but not all are well-known. The targets seem… Deliberate, don’t they?”

“And?” Remus asked, not knowing what Sirius was expecting him to understand, what his ‘eureka’ moment was supposed to be. Did he want to plan an ambush?

“It’s not wise to be a well-known couple, is it?” Sirius said quietly, darting his eyes away from Remus and staring at his tea.

The werewolf took a moment to gather his thoughts. He sipped his tea again, letting Sirius fidget and wait for his answer. “We don’t make a point of being well-known, Sirius.” It was true. They didn’t kiss in public, and only socialized as much as necessary with other Order members. Most probably did not even know about them.

“There is a spy,” Sirius said matter-of-factly, “We know there is. Too many attacks at opportune moments. And that time when the meeting was attacked… There is a spy. And that spy may very well know about the two of us.”

Remus did not answer. A cold feeling in his stomach told him he didn’t _want_ to hear the rest of Sirius’ thoughts.

“It’s too late for James and Lily - they are married and all - but even for them, you see how bad it has been. Prongs has been more devastated by missed attacks on Lily than he has real attacks on friends. It’s different, when somebody is your partner.”

All of a sudden, Remus had the urge to run out of the house, run until his sides hurt and he couldn’t breathe anymore. He wanted to be far, far from this conversation. Sirius’ quiet demeanor, calm reasoning, careful words,… Everything pointed to one thing: that the Animagus had been mulling this over for a while, and had already made a decision. Remus was being informed, not being asked for his opinion.

“We could run away,” he found himself saying, despite knowing what the Animagus was about to say. They had known each other too long for the werewolf not to have figured out already exactly what he was being told.

Sirius seemed startled. His eyebrows furrowed. Merlin and Circe, even that expression was aristocratic and beautiful on _his_ face.

“We could take your bike,” Remus continued. “Remember the first time you got me to ride with you? That felt fantastic.” His voice was hollow, but his lips curled into a smile. “That was a happy day.”

“Remus…”

“We could leave. We could go far enough away that Voldemort can’t reach us for a long, long time.”

Sirius looked at him sadly, then took Remus’ hands in his own. “Remus, you know the last thing I want is to deny you happiness. But… We can’t leave. We can’t desert people who need us at a time like this. I know you don’t want to, either.”

Remus did not respond, but got up and pulled Sirius towards himself, wrapping their bodies in a close embrace.

“I love you,” Sirius murmured into his neck, and Remus knew that he meant it, maybe more than he ever had.

“I love you too, Sirius,” he responded, grinning as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“We will still be together, for me,” the raven-haired boy continued, his lips moving against Remus’ skin and breath warming it up. “I won’t— You know—”

“I know, Padfoot.”

“I just want you to be safe. I don’t want them to use us against each other. You know they will. They do.”

Remus nodded as much as he could while their heads were interlocked. He had been teased about having a mate by werewolves and other creatures more than once. He knew a love affair these days was, to an objective mind, an unnecessary risk.

“You kept joking that you didn’t recognize my ugly old mug anyway,” Sirius tried to joke through his burning throat, “With all our distant missions and whatnot.”

At that, Remus pulled back to look at his boyfriend. Sirius’ hair was disheveled even more than usual thanks to the werewolf’s fingers in it. His eyes were shining with unshed tears and his mouth kept twitching as if to hold back a sob. A small, selfish part of Remus was glad that this wasn’t killing just one of them. If nothing else, they would always know just how much they loved each other.

“I could never forget your face, Sirius,” he said honestly.

They both smiled at each other sadly.

“At least,” Sirius said, “We love and trust each other. You know what happened with Karkaroff. His wife had no clue…”

“Yes,” Remus agreed, hanging on to that silver lining. “And we will still be friends, so we will still see each other. It will only be… Be like an extra-long mission. As if one of us were undercover.”

“Remus Lupin, the werewolf spy. I like it,” Sirius said with a barked out laugh.


	21. End of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus discuss how to go through with their plan. A tiny new Marauder sprog is born.

**1980 Spring/Summer**

 

**_Only the dead have seen the end of war._ **

_Plato_

 

It felt alien, planning it out as if it were a business transaction. They sat down and tried to decide the best way to go about it. From who to tell (and how much), to how to handle Remus’ status with the Ministry. It was an odd thing, certainly, to see Sirius Black discussing his love and sex life and keep a straight face.

“We can’t touch at all. I know friends do, but old lovers don’t,” the Animagus said slowly, writing it down.

“Do we really need to write all these down?” Remus asked with a frown. Surely they could remember.

“Helps me think.” Sirius shrugged. Remus remembered how often Sirius would scribble down illegible notes as they planned pranks, and smiled in spite of the gloomy discussion they were having.

“I don’t think James should know, at least not everything,” the dirty-blond said carefully.

“I agree,” Sirius answered right away, to his surprise. “We will tell him we are taking a break, or something along those lines.”

“Do we need to fabricate a big fight?” Remus mused.

Sirius shrugged again, and scowled at the parchment in front of him. “We can tell them I wanted to focus on being an Auror and the Order. They’ll get the hint and think I left you.”

“Taking the hex for me, eh?”

“Nobody would believe you are the bad one anyway, Moony,” Sirius said with an honest, barky laugh. “Try to tell Evans that you wronged me, I dare you.”

“I won’t take that dare…” Remus raised his hands in surrender.

This back-and-forth went on for about an hour until they felt satisfied regarding the arrangement. Or, to be more correct, as satisfied as they ever would feel. Then, Sirius folded the parchment and put it inside his pocket.

“I was thinking,” he started, then his voice drifted off.

“Never a good thing,” Remus said to break the silence that followed.

“I was thinking,” Sirius repeated, then looked Remus in the eyes expectantly. “We should get tattoos.”

“Tattoos?” Now that was a surprise. The werewolf would not have been surprised if Sirius wanted another tattoo, but why was he asking Remus to get one?

“A promise, of sorts,” the Animagus continued. “The ones I have,” he said, and touched the side of his ribcage where one of them was, “They feel permanent, and I like having them tell me who I am.”

The tattoo his hand was wandering over was one of the Marauders in their animal forms. Remus knew how much it meant to Sirius. He had always thought it was because it showed Sirius that he had friends, a real family beyond Walburga and Orion. He had never thought of it as a ‘promise’.

“It’s superficial, I know,” Sirius said quietly. “But they’re— They’re _there_ and I can feel them on my skin and it feels part of me in a way that letters or even memories are not.” He paused. “Does that make sense, Moony?”

“A little,” Remus said, not wanting to lie. “And what promise is that one, then?” he said, pointing towards his side.

“That we will always be a family," Sirius said, not skipping a beat. His voice was certain and clear, as if he had been expecting this question.

“And what promise would we be making?” the werewolf asked carefully.

“To love each other,” Sirius said softly, and smiled at Remus the way he always did when he spoke of love. They could be in the middle of laughing at something silly like a Muggle movie and if Sirius uttered those words, his eyes would be filled with kindness and affection, heating up the werewolf’s whole body.

“I like that,” he said, and smiled. He didn’t want to mention that it sounded quite like a marriage proposal, but his heart beat faster and he felt dizzy with happiness.

They spent the next few hours going through books and magazines they had in the house, trying to come up with a design or idea for the tattoos. They didn’t have much time, after all. They thought of runes, but dismissed the idea quickly as any rune they picked would be either too obvious or too vague. They wondered about their animal forms, but that would have the same trouble, at least when it came to the other Marauders seeing the tattoos.

“Oh I know!” Remus said suddenly. “How about Moony and Padfoot?”

Sirius raised a mocking eyebrow. “Want to add a picture of us shagging underneath that, too? Thought we were going for subtle, here.”

“No, no,” Remus said, shaking his head. “Not together. Moony on me, and Padfoot on you. But—”

“So our own names, on each other?” Sirius cut him off. He frowned. “How is that supposed to say _love_?”

“If you would _listen_ , you impatient knobhead,” Remus said with a mischievous smile, “I will explain. We will write each other’s names, and tattoo them on each other. You will write ‘Moony’ and I will have that written on me, in _your_ handwriting. So every time we look at it, we will know. Not obvious to others, but we will know.”

“That’s brilliant, Moony! Knew there was a reason I’ve kept you around for so long.”

“Har har.”

Remus was the first to finish his draft. He presented it proudly to Sirius, who looked at it skeptically. The werewolf immediately felt bad for his lack of artistic skill. “I know it isn’t much, but…”

“It’s not that, Remus. It’s just… That’s not how you write. I can’t think of a single letter you wrote that had Padfoot written like that.”

“Oh.” Remus looked at the parchment again. He had written ‘Padfoot’ as elegantly as he could. “We can grab it from a letter, if we want to make it more authentic.”

“We can do that for yours, but not me. My usual handwriting is almost impossible to read. James would know in an instant. I’ll write a new one, but make it as authentic as I can.”

“That makes sense. I’ll bring out your box of memories.”

Sirius’s quill stopped, spilling ink over the parchment. “I— Er— What?”

“Padfoot,” Remus sighed good-naturedly, and rolled his eyes. “I know you keep every bloody thing any of us give you. Stop pretending you are not a gigantic sap.”

“I am a rogue,” Sirius huffed. “I ride a flying motorcycle and wear leather jackets. I’m a rebel. A delinquent. _Not_ a sap.”

“He said, as he wrote his boyfriend’s name dozens of times on a parchment,” Remus said dryly, and laughed as he made his way into the bedroom to grab Sirius’ box.

Within ten minutes, they had found a perfect “Moony” and “Padfoot” to get inked into them forever.

~

Two days later, it was time for the dirty-blond to move out of their house. It wasn't as painful as Remus had expected, packing to leave. He had been on so many lengthy missions that his few possessions were always ready to go anyway, and there was no bitter break-up to sadden the atmosphere. Even the lustful, longing kisses they kept giving each other were reminiscent of their pre-mission behavior.

He would be back. This was just one long assignment. They would be together again. And Sirius had sworn again and again that they would still be together in spirit, that he wouldn't start acting like a bachelor. The repetition of the promise made Remus chuckle because Sirius had always been the jealous one, not him. The poor Animagus was probably terrified of somebody else getting to touch Remus.

But he needn't worry. Unless a mission necessitated it, Remus wouldn't. He didn't _want_ anybody else. He hadn't since he was a school boy, and maybe not even then.

He stayed with James and Lily for a few weeks, until he felt he had overstayed his welcome (and an extremely pregnant Lily started sleeping more than keeping him company). Then, he went back to his family home. This was easier for paperwork at any rate. They hadn't bothered taking his father off the list of guardians for him, so it would not be an issue to switch, he hoped. When he went to the Ministry to file the necessary paperwork, he ran into Peter. He accompanied the werewolf to his appointment and they went out for a beer, after. Peter had been quiet about the whole affair until the first round of Butterbeers was finished and the alcohol had gone well into their bloodstream already.

"For Merlin's sake, Moony, when has Padfoot _ever_ let something he loves go because something as silly to him as _logic_?"

"What's the matter with you, Wormy? We're all under a lot of stress, I know, but you're being ridiculous," Remus huffed. He could have brushed the comment off calmly, but Peter didn't look like he would stop talking rubbish unless the werewolf showed some irritation.

"Am I?" Peter challenged him, looking at Remus with wide eyes. Half-scared, half-angry. This was what it was always like, disagreeing with Peter Pettigrew. He never had the will-power to argue with his friends about anything but he would fight his own instinct if he truly believed in something. Now, he was convinced that Sirius was hurting Remus and, even though he hated disagreeing with Remus, he was forcing himself to do so to protect the werewolf. An odd, endearing trait that Remus usually appreciated. Right now, it was annoying him.

"Look, I know you and Pads don't always get along—"

"I don't have a problem with Padfoot, not intrinsically," the blond disagreed.

That wasn't entirely true, Peter and Sirius fought more often than any of the Marauders, but that wasn't the point at the moment. "Then why are you trying to meddle in our relationship?"

"You know what, I don't know," Peter said unexpectedly, and frowned as he drank some of his now-warm beer. His voice was even more bitter when he continued. "You're right. It is none of my business. Why do I care? In the past year, have you asked once how Claire is doing? Why do _I_ bother?"

"Stop being a girl's blouse, Wormtail," Remus rebutted, "I am sure I asked you about your girlfriend."

"We broke up last month. You didn't even notice, Remus." The anger was gone from Peter's voice. He sounded more like the quiet, amenable Wormtail that Remus knew.

"Wormy... I wouldn't even notice if James and Lily broke up, these days. If I have the energy left to open my eyelids, Dumbledore immediately asks me for something."

"Yeah..." Peter said softly, looking away. “Dumbledore always needs something, doesn’t he?"

~

It didn't help that breaking-up-but-not was a near-impossible feat. They still met up, the Marauders. And even though it was rarely all four of them at a time, Sirius and Remus ran into each other often. They drank, they laughed, they played Snap or Quidditch. They met up for the full moons if Remus was not away on a mission. The difference now was that if Sirius’ hand brushed against Remus' thigh, he quickly took it back. If Remus saw Sirius' beer-wet lips and wanted to cover them with his own, he looked away and took another sip of his own drink.

They managed, even on the nights when they got drunk - even on the nights after they lost people, how they had gotten back together in the past - until one very sober night.

Lily was giving birth and of course the Marauders had been informed before the couple had even floo’d to St. Mungo’s. Peter had responded that he had to go on a very short mission, but he would see the sprog before they left the hospital. Sirius and Remus had luckily had no other obligations that night, and had come to the couple’s side right away.

Unfortunately, the birth was taking forever. They had been in the waiting room for two hours when Sirius held up his hands and told Remus that if he didn't get fresh air soon, he was going to go mad. With a chuckle, Remus followed the Animagus to the rooftop. It was pleasantly noisy; the flat hum of a working hospital in an otherwise quiet night. It took an embarrassingly short time for them to start kissing, sober on the rooftop, waiting for their friend to give birth, after having fought the urge for months.

Sirius caught Remus' lower lip between his teeth. "Sirius," Remus breathed in protest even as his hips instinctively rolled against Sirius'. "Don't. We can't."

The Animagus paid him no mind, and continued his quest to touch every inch of the werewolf that he could reach. His tongue was harsh and hot in Remus' mouth.

Between frantic kisses, Remus finally managed to pull away enough to look at his friend. "Sirius," he repeated, trying to catch his breath. "We can't. We're not together anymore, remember? Your idea, if I recall." The last part was unfair, he knew. Remus would have come to the same conclusion too, soon after Sirius had. But the blue balls his old lover was giving him made him just a little bitter.

"We've fooled around long before we were together, Moony," Sirius murmured seductively into his ear, making him shiver.

"It's different," Remus insisted, because it was. "We weren't in love. If we shag now, it will _mean_ something." He was smiling and his tone wasn't harsh. He wanted this as much as Sirius did, he wasn't angry at Sirius for the hungry touches and painful erection between his legs. How could he be, when Remus' own body mirrored Sirius'?

"I was in love," Sirius said easily, snapping Remus out of pleasant thoughts.

Remus didn't know how to answer that one. Their affair certainly hadn't started with roses and champagne. Well, it sort of had, in a way, but Sirius was suggesting he'd loved Remus before then. The werewolf's heart gave a funny jump, making him feel elated and nostalgic all at once.

"I know, Padfoot," he found himself saying quietly, and started stroking Sirius' hair tenderly. "I love you too."

That seemed to give Sirius pause. They kept staring each other for a minute, breaths slowly calming down. There was so much love, between them. And longing. Their needy, affectionate expressions now were twisted ever-so-slightly by the knowledge that no, they could not sleep in the same bed tonight and no, they could not be sure the other would be alive the next day.

Remus moved forward and held Sirius tightly, wrapping one arm around his back, fingers tangling in the back of Sirius' head. With the other hand, he pulled the dark-haired boy flush against him. "We could have a few hours," he whispered mischievously into Sirius' ear. "Nobody has to know."

"Hours, Moony? Aren't we ambitious," Sirius joked, but there was something a little off about the humor in his tone, as if he were trying to make a joke to break awkward tension.

"Don't be cheeky," Remus chuckled back. "I'm serious. We could."

Sirius made a noise that sounded like relief and within seconds they were tangled in each other on the cold concrete floor with the warm July sky above them.

~

"Pads, Moony, meet Harry James Potter," James said, holding a little bundled up creature up to his friends.

"Really? 'James'?" Sirius said dryly. "Bit vain, no?”

"People name their kids after themselves all the time," James said defensively. "My middle name is Fleamont."

"I don't know why you think saying that makes you sound more respectable, or right. About anything,” his friend responded, but his teasing tone drifted off as he looked at Harry nestled up against Lily’s bosom. The redhead’s sweaty hair was sticking to her face and the newborn was mostly a wrinkly mess, but they both looked beautiful. Remus felt his chest warm up and swell, and he was sure Sirius felt the same.

“Congratulations, Lily,” Remus said softly, and walked over to the very tired but very happy new mother.

Lily was beaming. “Thank you,” she said. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”

“A little Lily and James,” the werewolf agreed.

“More Lily than me, I hope,” James joked, grinning proudly down at his wife and son.

For a while, the three Marauders simply enjoyed looking at this new child in their lives, with big smiles on their faces. Peter showed up a few hours later, when an exhausted James was taking a nap while Lily nursed. When Lily started sleeping as well, their blond friend left to get some rest himself. Sirius and Remus opted to stay until the couple woke up. The nurses had taken Harry to the nursery and they walked down to see him.

“He’s so tiny,” Sirius said. His voice was emotional in a way Remus had not heard, before. He sounded astounded, if the werewolf had had to pick one emotion.

“Babies usually are, Pads,” he chuckled.

Sirius gave him a look. “And how would you know?”

“I used to babysit, sometimes,” Remus explained, smiling as he watched Harry gurgle in his cot. The little bugger _was_ quite amazing. And he didn’t even _want_ kids, not really. They were too young, and children seemed such a far-away thought. And yet…

“Remus Lupin, a nanny!” Sirius said with a chuckle. He gave Remus another sideways glance before turning his eyes back onto Harry.

“To Muggles, of course,” Remus added absent-mindedly. He hadn’t thought much of it until he heard Sirius huff in annoyance. But then, before the werewolf could tell him to nevermind, Sirius was struck with an idea that made him grin and forget about his earlier irritation.

“You know, Moony,” he said, letting the back of his hand brush against Remus’. “If we have our own, they couldn’t tell us you couldn’t babysit. You would be the father.”

“Our own?” Remus asked, surprised. They had never spoken about children before, even as many teenage couples do about ‘one day’.

“Yeah,” Sirius repeated, and gave the werewolf’s hand one quick but firm squeeze. “I would like to. Give Harry a brother or sister, you know.”

Remus paused to think. “With you, I would,” he said honestly.

Sirius beamed. They spent another hour staring at the newborn before he was taken back to Lily for nursing. They hung behind as long as they reasonably could, before leaving the hospital. Sirius must have said goodbye to James at least three times.

Then, they departed, both heading in different directions.


	22. We Will Grow Old As Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus gets hurt on a mission. Sirius rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Aah!
> 
> Also; thank you for everyone who has been reading, kudosing, commenting and encouraging me to continue! You are the best. <3 <3

**1980 / 1981 Autumn / Winter**

 

**_I'm only one call away_ **

**_I'll be there to save the day_ **

**_Superman got nothing on me_ **

**_I'm only one call away_ **

_One Call Away - Charlie Puth_

 

_Bugger every god on Olympus, how did I get into this mess?_

Remus clutched at his side, feeling his hand get coated with blood before he even looked down. The sounds of spells flying quieted down as his adversaries started walking in search of him.

_Bloody hell, what_ **_was_ ** _that hex?_

He sighed, then forced himself to open his eyes. Panting, he looked around the rocky plains to see if there was any safe path, any place he could attempt to run to. He couldn’t Apparate, the Death Eaters had taken care of that, but perhaps if he could put enough distance between them…

“Where did he go?” he heard one of them hiss at the other. They had stopped walking, which could be a good or a bad thing. If they decided to give up, Remus would be lucky and perhaps have the time to patch himself up a bit. But if they decided to continue, it wouldn’t take even a minute for them to reach the tree Remus was hiding behind.

“I don’t _know_ , you imbecile. If I _knew_ , I would lead us there,” a woman snarled.

_Bellatrix. Fuck._

Remus didn’t dare poke his head out, and made conscious effort to lessen his panting. She was most certainly not the type to say ‘oh well’ and turn around, going back to Voldemort empty-handed. He looked at the satchel, draped innocently at his side. He wondered, for the first time, what was in it. Dumbledore had had him collect it, and told him not to look inside. The werewolf hadn’t even wanted to, until now.

_What did I steal that was so important that he sent Bellatrix Black after me?_

But there was no time to think, or question things. Not in his current predicament. He had only one option left. He would be out in the open as soon as he did it, but it was his only chance at survival. He whispered a few protection and distraction spells around him first, to buy time. Then, he cast a Patronus, loathe as he was to conjure a corporeal one.

“There!” the man shouted, no doubt pointing at the silver wolf running past them. Remus hoped the direction he had cast it in would confuse them away from him, if only for the few minutes he needed for Frank Longbottom to come.

He wasn’t surprised when Frank appeared in less than a minute, nor when he saw that he wasn’t alone. He had been betting on that, in fact. He _was_ surprised that it wasn’t only Alice he had brought. Sirius was with them, too. He didn’t have much time to linger on the thought as Bellatrix shrieked and the battle began once more, at full force.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to find him.

“Remus!” he shouted, and ran towards him, distractedly hexing the male Death Eater as he did so. “Why are you alone?” he demanded, once he was next to the werewolf. His eyes darted over to Remus' wounds. “Fuck.”

“Prewett—” Remus hissed between gritted teeth. He was in too much pain to pretend otherwise. “He—He’s dead.”

Sirius nodded, then looked towards the field. More Death Eaters were popping up, summoned just like they had been, no doubt.

“We have to get you out of here,” he whispered, and looked at the people around them calculatingly.

“I think the wards are only—” Remus started, then paused when another wave of pain shot through him unexpectedly. _Alright, no moving even an_ ** _inch_ , **_if I want to not scream out in agony._ “Only a hundred feet. If we make it to the Muggle tent over there, I think we can Apparate out.”

Sirius nodded. He eyed Remus, trying to decide the best way to get him out.

“I can walk,” Remus said, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking too much. “But I can’t fight. You would have to cover us both.”

His friend laughed. “‘I can walk,’ he says,” Sirius teased. He gave the fight one last glance. “Let me take care of a few, they would never let me run once they see me. Dear Bella is too fond of family for that.”

In a flash, he was gone. Remus listened to him duel. He wasn’t laughing and taunting people as he was wont to do, but he was not particularly careful either. The werewolf heard him get hit by a stunning spell twice in a row. Eventually, after another shriek from Bellatrix, Sirius was back.

Sirius didn’t bother greeting Remus again. He muttered a few incantations and the dirty-blond felt his body relax. He didn’t even feel any discomfort when Sirius cradled him up and ran towards the tent. Then, after the odd yet familiar sensation of Apparating, they were gone.

They didn’t talk while Sirius tended to the werewolf’s wounds. It had fascinated and surprised Remus, the first time his friend had acted so tenderly towards him. By now he was more than used to the gentle touches and caresses, and let himself relax and enjoy them.

The Shack was dusty, more abandoned than it ever had been with the Marauders’ absence, and certainly did not have a working kitchen. Thankfully, Sirius always had fresh water on him, habit from Auror missions.

“Can’t believe you didn’t summon _me_ ,” the Animagus said once Remus was patched up enough to sit up and drink some water.

Remus shrugged. He _had_ thought about it. Of course he had. But they weren’t together, any more. It would have been odd to call for Sirius over his current Order partner, Frank.

“Frank and I were assigned as partners last month, for the patrols around the headquarters,” he said through his hoarse throat.

Sirius snorted. “And? What in the bloody hell does that have to do with anything? Don’t you think I would want to come save you?”

“I wasn’t a bloody damsel in distress, you don’t have to play knight,” Remus tried to joke.

“Maybe not a damsel - too perverted and wicked for that - but you were in distress,” Sirius shot back, a tiny smile on his lips. He paused. “Really, Moony, why didn’t you call for me?”

“I didn’t know where you were,” Remus said, voice small. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Since they had broken up, they had to count on chance encounters to catch up.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Remus,” the brunette said gently. “I would have come to you, even if I was in the middle of a duel with Voldemort. Or chocolate cake,” he added, trying to add humor to their rather sad situation.

“You would abandon cake for me, Padfoot?” Remus chuckled.

“I would abandon anything for you, Moony.” Sirius touched the werewolf’s face, cupping his jaw. Remus’ breath hitched.

“Still,” Remus said, tearing his eyes away from Sirius, “I didn’t know who you were with. Frank is always with Alice if he is not with anybody else. I knew I needed the help of more than one person.”

“Merlin himself couldn’t stop me if I wanted to save you, Remus.”

There was another pause as Remus tried not to get too emotional. _Bloody bird is what you are, Remus. Get it together. You are a vicious werewolf._ “Merlin is going to kidnap me?”

“I could fight him, you know I could,” Sirius was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Remus wasn’t sure who moved first, but all of a sudden their lips met. He tried, incoherently, to mumble into the kiss that they shouldn’t, that they couldn’t keep doing this if they wanted to stay apart, but even he couldn’t make sense of his words. He doubted Sirius could.

When they parted, Sirius was grinning at him.

“It doesn’t matter if we don’t do this, you know,” the Animagus said. “If I never kiss you again, I will still love you and be by your side whenever you need. I would always come to your rescue, just like I would for James or Peter. Granted, the reward for saving you is rather more attractive, but…” He chuckled. “We will grow old as friends, Moony. And friends help each other. Don’t be afraid to call for my help. Ever.”

Remus’ hands were shaking as he put them on Sirius’.

“And,” Sirius said, looking down at their hands, “If we— If we for some reason don’t end up back together… We will still be friends, just like now. We will still drink with the lads every Tuesday - once this war stops getting in the way - and support each other. Nothing will change that. Nothing.”

The werewolf let out a dark chuckle, and started running his fingers over Sirius’ wrists and forearms.

“And James,” Sirius continued, voice getting shakier now, but his grin was intact on his handsome face. “He will keep forcing Evans to pop out sprogs.” He watched as Remus’ hands pushed his robes further up and started going higher and higher on his arms. He sighed happily. “We will have to spoil them rotten, of course.”

“Of course,” Remus agreed with fake solemnity.

“It is our _obligation_ as uncles.” Sirius sounded proud already of little Harry, and whoever else he would be uncle to.

“Can’t believe James is a father already, can you?” Remus said suddenly, thinking of when Lily had first gotten pregnant. They had barely been out of school.

“We _are_ twenty, Moony. Not quite as young as we would like to think. We have been drinking legally for _years_ now.”

Remus chuckled. “S’pose that’s true. Marauders. _Adults._ Funny thought.”

They sat quietly and touched each other without any urgency or desire for anything more than intimacy. Both were lost in their own thoughts.

“Not that amusing when it means we go to war, I suppose,” Remus added after a while, sadly.

“Don’t think about that,” Sirius said, running one hand through Remus’ messy wet curls. “We think about that often enough. Think about _after_ the war. When we are grumpy uncles, still holding hands when we are too old to acceptably do so in public, and gifting the little Potters with as dangerous presents as we can get away with without Evans murdering us.”

Remus could see it, too. Sirius would surely keep pushing the boundaries with Lily until somebody got hurt (possibly even after), and even Remus could think of an idea or two for inappropriate-yet-so-appropriate gifts for James’ children, like the Map, if he could trick Filch into giving it back.

There were many things to talk about, and Remus’ whole body was aching from his wounds. But there was only one important thing to say, and one thing he _wanted_ to be doing.

“I love you,” he whispered, and kissed Sirius.

“I love you too,” Sirius said. “Let’s stay for a bit.” He smiled his heart-breaking, handsome grin and Remus couldn’t have said no if he wanted to.

He smiled back.


	23. To the Marauders!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and James are told about the prophecy, and prepare to go into hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, this is it!
> 
> Thank you so, so much everyone who's been kudosing, commenting, or just reading! Seeing all the subscriptions and bookmarks has motivated me greatly. Thanks especially to @nachodiablo for helping me get the last bit of this chapter right.
> 
> This monster of a fic was meant to cover much, much more time but the word count kept increasing and, well, anything I have written for after this point I will post as short fics in the same Soulmates collection.
> 
> From the very beginning I wanted to end this with a hopeful/good ending, so this point feels right to stop at. It's early enough that you can imagine an alternate ending if you wish, but in my mind the Soulmates story doesn't become a real AU until around the Half-Blood Prince.

**1981 Spring**

**From the table in the corner,  
They could see a world reborn,  
And they rose with voices ringing,  
And I can hear them now**  
Empty Chairs at Empty Tables - Eddie Redmayne

  
Remus received a letter from Lily, asking him to urgently make his way back home and meet the rest of the Marauders at the Order’s headquarters in a week’s time. Thankfully, Remus had no other obligations. Not that it would have mattered. Lily had told in her letter that Dumbledore would forgive whatever mission Remus left half-done, if need be.

  
It was a lie. Not a conscious one, simply a lie told out of ignorance. Dumbledore had shown many times in the past that he would push Remus as much as he wanted or needed. Remus had missed his mother’s funeral, and although the old headmaster had thanked him, he had not been remorseful.

  
“Dumbledore talked to us,” James said curtly, and nodded towards the chairs.

  
“He says,” Lily explained slowly once they had all sat down, “That we are in grave danger. His words. We need to hide Harry at all cost.”

  
“As if we wouldn’t protect him if he hadn’t told us to,” James said, annoyed.

  
“Of course we would,” his wife said gently, “But would we have gone into hiding if he hadn’t convinced us? That definitely was not our first reaction.”

  
“True,” James admitted.

  
“You are going into hiding, then?” Sirius was frowning at his hands as he asked the question.

  
“We need to, Pads,” his best friend said.

“Voldemort will stop at nothing to get to Harry. That’s what Dumbledore thinks.”

  
“If that is what is needed, we will do whatever we can do to help,” Remus said gently and took Lily’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently.

  
Sirius took Harry from James, and started bouncing him on his right leg. “I wish you didn’t have to,” he said, to the baby.

  
“You and me both,” the redhead agreed. “But such is life.”

  
“It won’t be for long,” the bespectacled Marauder said quickly. “Just until… Until Voldemort gives up or we win. One or the other has to happen, eventually.”

  
“What does the prophecy say, exactly?” Remus said pensively.

  
“That Harry - or rather, a child born on 31st of July - will defeat Voldemort.”

  
“But then,” the werewolf continued, furrowing his brows, “How does it make sense to hide Harry?”

  
Sirius looked at Remus in surprise. James blinked like an owl behind his glasses.

  
“I mean to say,” he said, trying to explain himself, “If Harry will defeat Voldemort, does that not mean…” He let his voice trail off.

  
“I asked that too, but surely you are not suggesting I let my _baby son_ fight the Dark Lord?” Lily asked, but there was no anger in her voice.

  
“I am just confused regarding this prophecy, that’s all,” Remus said apologetically.

  
“We were too,” James said, “But Dumbledore said that Voldemort will be defeated two times. That’s his theory. As brilliant as I am, even my son couldn’t possibly duel before he’s even one. So Harry must be the the _second_ person to defeat him.”

  
“Necromancy?” Sirius asked, eyebrows raised.

  
“Not sure. Possibly he will be locked like Grindelwald was, and later escape?” James shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t care, frankly. All that matters is that Voldemort _thinks_ my baby will kill him, and he will do whatever he can to stop that.”

  
“And you will hide.” Sirius had stopped playing with Harry now, and was holding him in his arms tightly.

  
“And we will hide,” James repeated with a crooked smile. Peter shifted uncomfortably. Sirius and Remus looked at the brave couple sadly.

  
~

  
They all met up again at the Potters’, one last time before they moved out of the house that Lily and James had so lovingly picked. They knew they would probably be back in a couple of months, but it didn’t make them any less sad to part with it. Not to mention the fact that they would be saying goodbye - temporarily - to their friends as well. No more Order meetings - or drinks afterwards. No more randomly popping up at each others’ houses. No more Auror work with Sirius. No more full moons with Remus.

  
So they went to the Potters’. They helped pack the last of the things that hadn’t been put away yet, then starting chatting and drinking tea. As it usually happened, the room had several conversations going at once. Lily and James joined one or the other whenever they didn’t have ‘Harry duty’.

  
“Scared of a little challenge, Potter? Think you can’t beat me at _Quidditch?”_ Sirius mocked.

  
“I can beat you at _anything,_ Black. Quidditch is just one of them. I, however, quite value my life.” He nodded towards Lily, who was nursing. “If we end up accidentally hurting or upsetting Harry, it will be our heads.”

  
“Frightened of a bird, then?” Sirius snorted. Lily gave him a look, but her smile weakened the effect of her glare.

  
“Gryffindors don’t get scared!” James declared, and stood up. “Go on, then. Summon your broom.”

  
Sirius got up as well. “Why can’t I use one of yours?”

  
“Because I only have one now,” James said, looking away.

  
The other brunette raised his eyebrows.  
“They take up a lot of space,” James mumbled.

  
Sirius barked out a laugh, then turned to Lily. “My my, Evans. You have him on a tight leash. James Potter, with a single broom in his house!”

  
“Yeah, Lily,” Remus added, amused, “Who would have thought you would have made an adult out of him?”

  
“It wasn’t easy,” Lily said with a fake solemn sigh.

  
James huffed like an upset child.

  
“A work in progress, really,” his wife added. She prodded Harry a bit when he stopped suckling. “Come on, baby, you need some more, or else you will just wake up again in an hour.”

  
The conversation got derailed and soon they were reciting all the times James had done something silly (and there had been many) to impress Lily. Some even Lily herself had not known about, or noticed. They all had tears in their eyes from laughing before they stopped teasing James.

  
Then, the laughter slowly died down, and all was quiet.

  
“I miss Hogwarts,” Peter said, breaking the silence.

  
“Me too,” Remus agreed, closing his eyes and thinking of the wonderful times they had had there. “It’s odd enough not seeing your ugly mugs every morning, I can’t imagine what it will be like to not see you, even at Order meetings,” he continued, looking at James and Lily.

  
“We will still see each other, mate,” James said easily, “Just not as often.”

  
“And we will write, obviously,” Lily added, smiling fondly at Remus. The two were the letter-writers in their little gang. The rest seemed to prefer long silences and meetings in person.

  
“I hate that you will be in danger and I won’t be there,” Sirius added quietly. They all turned to him in surprise. He almost never spoke that way, not unless directly asked. He shrugged when he saw everybody looking at him.

  
“It’ll be better this way,” James said, thinking of what Dumbledore had told them all. Then, after a pause, he said: “At least you won’t have to shamefully lose to me at one-on-one Quidditch every other week.”

  
“I would like to see you try, Potter!” Sirius said, and this time did quickly Apparate back to his house to grab his broom. “Up and at it, Potter, we have precious little hours of sunlight left!”

  
They didn’t come back in until Lily went out and told them she was going to put Harry to sleep. Everybody kissed the little Marauder sprog goodbye, and him and his mother disappeared into the nursery. Sirius and James sat down on the couch and started discussing how the game had won.

  
“If you think about it,” Sirius was saying, “I really won, because the shot you got in when I sneezed should not count.” Remus stopped paying attention. Watching Quidditch was one thing, he could not bear the long speeches that came after. He looked around the room, and all the packed boxes, ready for the move the next day.

  
“It’s eerie, isn’t it?”

  
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “Eerie is the right word, I suppose. Scary, is what I would have said. But ’Gryffindors don’t get scared’.”

  
“I don’t know, Wormy,” Remus sighed, “I’m scared every day.”

  
Peter turned to him then, surprised. “You are?”

  
“Of course. Scared I won’t see any of you ever again. Scared I will cause the demise of one of my sources. Scared for all of us.” His tone was light, but sincere in his fear.

  
“All of us,” Peter said, nodding to himself. Then he let out a deep sigh. He looked back up at Remus questioningly. “Are you doing anything particularly dangerous, these days?”

  
“We can’t talk about this,” Remus responded instinctively. The words rolled off his tongue with ease, he hadn’t even thought of them before they were out of his lips, so used he was to repeating them.

  
“Of course, of course,” the blond said hurriedly. “I know.”

  
“OI!” came Sirius’ loud yell from the other side of the room. “You pillocks, stop being mopey and depressing over there, and come join the celebration."

  
“What are we celebrating, pray tell?” Remus asked as he walked over to Sirius and James, eyebrows raised. Peter followed quietly.

  
“Lily’s letting us drink,” James said with a devious grin. He had two bottles of whiskey in his hands.

  
“Worth celebrating, surely. An adult being allowed to drink,” Remus said dryly.

  
“You don’t know what it’s like, being a parent,” James said solemnly, “There are more rules than the bloody Auror training. I don’t recall _my_ parents fussing this much.” Once he was done talking, he looked at the door worriedly, as if Lily would Apparate in just then, having heard everything. When no angry redhead appeared, he returned his attention to the Marauders. “But no, that is not what the celebration is for.”

  
“What are we celebrating, then?” Peter asked, grabbing glasses for all of them.

  
“The Marauders,” Sirius said proudly.  
Remus raised an eyebrow. For a few moments, Sirius and James simply looked at their other two friends, waiting for a response. When Remus and Peter remained quiet, James sighed irritatedly, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

  
“We are _celebrating_ ,” he said, “The fact that we are still the greatest band of mischievous buggers ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts _and_ the fact that we are still here, standing tall, in all this mess. Even Dumbledore, for all his cryptic talks, seems convinced we are nearing some sort of end, now. The most prominent Death Eaters are dwindling - with Rosier and Wilkes gone as well, we are in better shape than ever.”

  
Peter furrowed his eyebrows and poured himself a drink, not looking at James. Remus didn’t know what to say either. Just last week he had failed to convince a young werewolf to _not_ go to Voldemort’s side, and watched another die for having refused to.

  
“A world without Voldemort,” James said, “That will be brilliant. I can’t even imagine it, we’ve been in this so long.”

  
“Let’s not celebrate too soon," the werewolf said carefully, "I know what getting cocky too early does to you two gits. Remember that match we lost against Hufflepuff when Gryffindor was 160 points ahead, then while Mr. Antler-head here was doing victory laps, they scored a goal AND caught the Snitch?”  
James put on a childish moue. Sirius laughed, nodding. That had been a shame, but at the same time James’ face afterwards had almost been worth the embarrassing loss. Even Peter cracked a smile at the memory.

  
“I know the fight will still go on, even if I am not able to be a part of it,” James said slowly once they all had their drinks in hand. “But things are going well right now, and I don’t know when I will see you again.” He looked around. “We will move a lot, and too many people showing up at our homes would draw too much attention. At most, we could have you visiting one at a time. I want to celebrate the good now, together, while we can.”

  
“It will be over soon,” Sirius reassured James. “Then we will _really_ celebrate. Veelas and Confundo’d Muggle bands — the works!”

  
“But for now,” Remus said, raising his glass. “To the Marauders!”

  
“Aye!”

  
“To the Marauders!”

  
Clink. Clink. Clink _._

_**“A soulmate is someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communicating and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace.”**  
—Thomas Moore_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @bastardsirius . :)


End file.
